


fathoms below

by blusidepromise



Category: The Little Mermaid (1989)
Genre: Eric is Immature, F/M, Falling In Love, Historical Inaccuracy, Invented kingdoms and geography, Light Angst, Soulmates, and an idiot but what's new, sort of? idk just wanted to give sense to the instant love thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:53:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 77,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25584715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blusidepromise/pseuds/blusidepromise
Summary: Eric had never really thought about what he would do when he found her. He may have imagined a better situation, maybe a ball, or one of those meetings his mother organized. But not this, not one in which he couldn't even tell her how long he had been waiting. Not one in which he couldn't even open his eyes long enough to see her face.A retelling of The Little Mermaid in Eric's point of view
Relationships: Ariel/Eric (Disney)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 64





	1. I. i’ll tell you a tale of the bottomless blue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: as stated on the tags this will go astray ftom the original plot just a little bit, it is just to be able to develop the story more and just to have a little bit of fun, but don't worry nothing major changes, this is still the story that we all know and love
> 
> Enjoy!

**_"it feels like my destiny's calling instead from mysterious fathoms below"_ **

Number 17. Princess Celeste of Glowerhaven. A pretty, seventeen-year-old petite princess with great knowledge in literature. The problem with this one: she absolutely _hated_ him.

It was an improvement, if he were to be honest. Other princesses would either fawn over him or pretend to be pleasant because they knew that’s what they were supposed to do. At least Princess Celeste didn’t try to hide her disdain. She had looked away from him, raising her little pointy nose in contempt and side-eyeing him with annoyance every few seconds while they drowned in very uncomfortable silence.

Alright, yes, maybe he shouldn’t have made that joke about her hair, but he was just trying to lighten the mood. She was supposed to laugh, not look at him like she wanted to throw him out the window. She was over-exaggerating if you asked him (and in his defense, that thing on her hair did look like a fishing net), but he couldn’t really blame her. He wasn’t having the best of times either. He tried to start a conversation a couple of times before giving up, realizing that he didn’t really have much to say to this girl.

And so they sat in silence, the tension in the room so thick you could cut it with a knife. Their mothers sat a couple of feet from them, no longer excited and expectant of what could come out of their encounter. The Queen of Glowerhaven looked down in disappointment at the obvious failure, while his own mother looked positively livid. Eric groaned inwardly, he was sure he would be reprimanded as soon as they were alone. An angry Queen was never a pretty sight to see, but Eric had been the other end of it so many times that it no longer affected him.

Eric looked at the two queens, who talked in hushed whispers among themselves. He could make out some of their words if he tried really hard. ‘...ought this could work’, ‘...such a shame’, ‘...not always like this’. He knew his mother was apologizing for his behavior. Once again, this didn’t affect him. He had been through this so many times (17, to be exact), that all the different ways his mother called him “rude” and “inappropriate” flew over his head.

He gave a little sigh and turned his gaze to Princess Celeste again. She was now fiddling with the embroidery of her dress with a bored air, still not looking at him. He resigned himself to try just once more, at least to calm his mother’s anger. 

He cleared his throat, calling her attention. She finally looked up and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Do you, um,” he started unsurely, clearing his throat once again when his voice came out raspier than it should be. “Do you like sailing?”

Princess Celeste seemed confused at his awkward and out-of-the-blue inquiry. Eric saw his mother peak up when she heard the familiar question and discreetly rolled her eyes at him. She had heard Eric ask that same question to other ladies before, 16 of them.

Without hesitating, Princess Celeste scrunched her nose and shook her head. “I absolutely abhor it. In my opinion, the shorter the voyages are, the better. All that salty air makes my skin dry, not to mention the horrid sun and seasickness.”

Okay, so she wasn’t the one. It was alright, Eric was not expecting any different. He looked at his mother, whose own gaze was on him pointedly. Almost unnoticeably, he shrugged in her direction. His mother shook her head in the same manner and returned to her conversation with the Queen of Glowerhaven.

Putting his best societal face, Eric smiled at Princess Celeste.

“I understand,” —he actually didn’t— “Is there anything you do as a pastime, Your Highness?” he asked, out of politeness more than anything since he actually didn’t have much desire to continue this conversation.

“Painting,” she answered curtly and turned her head away from him once again. _Just like numbers 6 and 13,_ he thought to himself but didn’t think it was wise to mention it out loud. He had learned that women didn’t like to be compared to other women. 

After that short conversation they fell into silence once again, and Eric finally gave himself the liberty to disassociate from the situation he was in. He wasn’t going anywhere with the lovely princess anyway. He started thinking of the voyage that was awaiting him on the way to the royal family’s coastal home once their visit in Glowerhaven was over, the work he had to do, and the fun he would finally have once he got to the familiar town he grew up sneaking to. He could barely wait.

A small but sharp jab on his shoulder brought him to reality once again. He shook his head to clear his mind and was greeted with the Queen’s angry eyes looking down at him. Apparently, the time for his judgment was here. He stood up and calmly fixed his crumpled sleeves.

“If you don’t mind, Queen Marie,” said his mother in a pleasant tone, while grabbing his forearm in a grip that was a little too tight, “we would like to take the afternoon to rest from our trip.”

The Queen of Glowerhaven still had that disappointed expression on her face, she wasn’t as good at hiding her emotions as his mother was. She gave them a sad smile and nodded gracefully. 

“Of course, please take all the time you need. I will have dinner brought to your rooms if necessary.”

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary, we will be ready for dinner.” She turned her rehearsed pleasant gaze towards Eric as if the last sentence was directed at him. Eric just smiled at her in return.

The royals bowed to each other. Princess Celeste gave him one last glare before he and his mother turned towards the door. 

As soon as they were both inside her mother’s well-lighted guest room with a closed door, Eric inwardly counted to ten while he liberated his wrists from his tight cufflinks. When he got to nine, he heard his mother’s stern voice behind him.

“I thought I taught you that you should never comment on a woman’s appearance unless you are complimenting her.”

“It was a joke, mother, the mood was heavier than Uncle Federico on a good day.”

A hand flew to the back of his head and gave it a sonorous slap. Eric brought his own hand to his head and clutched the place where his mother had hit him.

“Mother, I am too old for this!” Eric exclaimed with mock indignation.

“You are not even trying!” his mother stood before him, her composed demeanor now gone. “All I ask of you is to have a civil conversation and to at least get to know the lady, but even that is too much! Is it really going to hurt you to _try_?”

“I am trying, if I wasn’t I would be in the middle of the sea by now.”

“That is not enough! You can’t keep making these quick judgments of every single lady you meet. You will never find a wife like that!”

“Must I remind you, mother, that I do not want to find a wife in the first place?”

“That is not up to discussion, Eric, what you need to fix is that dismissive attitude of yours,” his mother pinched his chin with a strong grip like she used to do when he was younger, “Don’t form such a quick opinion and give them a chance. They are all lovely ladies, lovelier than you definitely deserve.”

Eric took a deep breath, “Is not that I don’t think they are lovely ladies, I am sure they are, they are just not the one for me.”

“And how are you supposed to know, you don’t bother to get to know them.”

“I just feel it, mother, inside of me I have this feeling that I could never love them,” he said, only half-joking. His mother looked at him with a mixture of frustration and disbelief.

“ _‘I just feel it’_ ,” she repeated with a huff of almost laughter, “I wonder where you got that dreamer head of yours from, because it definitely wasn’t from me and it most certainly wasn’t from your father.” 

“I found it myself,” he joked with a cheeky smile, but she didn’t laugh. Instead, she frowned and examined him as if she had lost something on his face. 

Finally, she spoke again, softening her tone.

“Am I giving you too much liberty, Eric?” she started, sounding almost tired, “I let you study nautics as you wanted to, I let you go sailing to your heart’s desire, I am even letting you choose the person you want to marry. Do you know how unusual that is? I didn’t get that privilege, your father didn’t get that privilege. But now I wonder if perhaps I am making a mistake.”

“You did it to make me happy,” Eric responded sincerely, “You have a happy son, mother.”

“But you are not _only_ my son. You will be king very soon, darling, and I won’t always be here for you. I just-” — for a second, there was one of those rare moments when his mother couldn’t seem to find the right words — “I just don’t want you to be alone. The crown is a very heavy burden, you will need someone to hold you up when you need to and to work hand in hand with you along the way. Yes, I do want you to get married, but you got one thing right,” the Queen put one hand on her son's cheek gently, “I do want a happy son, that is why I am giving you a choice in the first place. I want you to find someone that, above all, makes _you_ happy.”

“I know, mother, and I am grateful.”

“But you have to do your part. No more rude remarks, no more fishing net jokes, no more turning off that brain of yours in the middle of a conversation. Are we clear on that?”

Eric gave a firm nod, “As water.”

“And for the love of God, Eric, you have to stop asking that foolish sailing question. You cannot keep basing your final decision on whether a girl likes to _sail_ or not.”

“Well, mother, if I am giving up my freedom along with my hand I might as well be sure that I can share what I love the most with her.”

She shook her head with a sigh, “You are full of ideas.”

“And it is such a deciding question, too. For example, I knew Number 4 wasn’t the correct choice because if she always trips over her hem like that, she probably would trip over all of those ropes we have on deck.”

“Eric, they have names, they are not just numbers!”

“She could go overboard! She could’ve died, mother!”

“Eric!”

Eric leaned down giving his mother better access to the back of his head, not for the first time realizing how much he had grown in the past couple of years, “Come on, give me another one. I know you want to, mum.”

“Quit playing with me, boy,” the Queen gave him a light shove on his shoulder, a small amused smile gracing her lips. After a couple of seconds of quiet laughter, she turned serious once again. “Now this is what you are going to do. You will apologize _sincerely_ to Princess Celeste for the comment you made about her hair, you will behave like the perfect gentleman I raised you to be for the rest of our visit and you will improve your attitude in time for our visit to the Duke of Desyn this autumn. Are we clear on that?”

Eric smiled and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. He repeated, “As water, Your Majesty.”

* * *

The rest of their visit went as well as it could’ve gone. Not saying anything rude to Princess Celeste was the easy part, she did her best job at ignoring him for the entire week. She coldly accepted his apology for the joke about her hair (she didn’t wear that accessory again for the rest of the week), turned on her heel, and didn’t direct a single word towards him until the end of his visit. The Queen of Glowerhaven was pleasant to him, not once showing any kind of resentment because of how badly their hopeful encounter turned out. Eric was glad, he didn’t want to be the reason for a feud between their two kingdoms.

On his last night in Glowerhaven, he couldn’t sleep. Back home, when he couldn’t rest he would usually walk in the beach by himself, but because the sea wasn’t close to the palace in Glowerhaven and he didn’t think it was a good idea to walk around someone else’s gardens in the middle of the night, he resorted to taking some air in his balcony.

From his guest room, Eric had a clear view of the little town at the foot of the palace and in the darkness, he could distinguish the port where he would receive his ship in the morning. He could see the sea from the balcony, its calm waves reflecting the bright moon. He breathed in deeply and felt disappointed that he couldn’t smell the air of the sea where he was; maybe the town was blocking the smell from getting to him. God, he couldn’t wait to get home.

While counting the stars he could see in the night sky, his thoughts drifted to Princess Celeste. He knew she wasn’t the one, he had known even before they had shared a word, before he asked her the sailing question and before she was resolved to hate him. As beautiful as she was, with her cherry lips and high cheekbones, when he had looked into her eyes he had felt nothing. No sparks, nothing similar to the rush he got whenever he took the wheel of a ship, no fireworks. Just the big empty nothing he was so used to. He wasn’t completely joking when he told his mother that something inside of him told him he could never love any of the princesses and ladies he met. He just knew, he couldn’t explain it, he just did. He wasn’t worried, because he knew _she_ was out there somewhere, and that he would find her when the time came.

His mother _was_ worried though. Eric was sure she thought he just didn’t have any interest in women or getting married. But he did (he definitely did), it was just hard to explain the emptiness in his chest to her, and why he couldn’t even pretend to be interested in those girls that made him feel nothing. 

Maybe that’s why he loved sailing so much. It made him _feel_ something. Being out in the sea was exhilarating. He could feel the rush running from his chest to the tip of his fingers every time he set foot on a ship. There was nothing like running around deck to retain control during a storm, seeing the sun hide behind the horizon every sunset, going aloft on a windy day when it feels like every step he took could be a fall. It made Eric feel alive, and like he could do anything in the world.

He watched as one by one the lights of the little homes below him disappeared giving way to the darkness of the night until his eyes finally felt tired and a yawn escaped through his mouth. He stretched and ran a hand through his hair while looking at the sea one last time. Soon he would be home, and even sooner he would be at the mercy of the bottomless blue.

* * *

Princess Celeste was standing next to her mother when the royal family of Glowerhaven sent them off. She was wearing a lovely blue dress and, surprisingly, the head accessory that looked like a net again. He could even see she was using something that made her lips redder. Princess Celeste was truly a beautiful girl and any man would be lucky to marry her, but it could never be him. He had a feeling they didn’t have much in common.

He smiled politely and bowed before her.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Your Highness,” he said. She returned his curtsey with one of her own.

“The pleasure was all mine, Prince Eric,” she responded, and Eric was surprised when her tone wasn’t as hostile as he expected. She sounded… almost sad. 

“You look lovely today,” he mentioned without giving it much thought, but immediately doubted it was the correct thing to say. She seemed to wonder the same thing because she looked at him fiercely as if trying to figure out if it was another one of his jokes. She reached a conclusion, but her expression didn’t reveal to Eric what it was. She raised her hand and patted her hair lightly.

“Well, maybe someone will think I am something worth catching someday,” she said, that curious sadness still in her tone. Eric took her gloved hand and gave it a light kiss.

“I am sure someone will,” he told her, and he meant it.

She dipped in a curtsey once more before going up the stairs with a quick step, but not before he saw her cheeks flush a bright red. Still confused by Princess Celeste’s behavior, Eric bowed before the Queen of Glowerhaven as well and entered the open coach that would take his mother and him to the port to board their respective ships.

He stared at the passing landscape, excitement bubbling in his chest when his mother spoke.

“That poor girl is truly never going to forgive you, darling.” Eric frowned at her words and asked her what she meant, but he didn’t get an answer. His mother continued, “Lucky her, it is not like you are the great catch we make you out to be.”

“Alright, now I know you are playing, mother.”

“What makes you think that? We do need to work a bit more if we want a good woman to accept you,” she turned towards him with a light smile, then lowered her voice, “Remember your promise when you are in Vedhavet by yourself.”

“I will try more,” he nodded.

“And take care of your duties before you sneak to town to do who knows what.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he turned to her smiling. He had to admit he would miss his mother while she went on a diplomatic visit to Gantrick. Eric was supposed to go with her but the plan was changed at the last minute when it was decided that it would be more convenient for Eric to go back home and prepare the kingdom for the summer festivities. His mother thought it would be a good idea for him to gain experience in not only organizing the traditional events but also preparing for the growing season and the harvest. Eric had a lot of paperwork waiting for him at Vedhavet.

When the coach finally stopped at the port the door was immediately opened for him, and before him, anchored to the dock was a beautiful ship waiting for him, with pristine white sails, the royal seal, and a wooden mermaid figurehead ready to lead their voyage. His heartbeat accelerated at the sight.

He helped his mother out of the coach and bowed before her as a farewell. His mother took his face on her hands and gave him a kiss on both cheeks. Her eyes showed a pinch of worry, as they did every time he went away. 

“Please be careful, don’t do anything reckless, and listen to the captain. It is a long way, so please stay safe. Don’t you dare give me scare, boy.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he responded again cheekily, but he sensed that something was wrong. He took her hand, “I will be alright, nothing I haven’t done before.”

“I know you will be alright, just a mother’s worry that’s all,” she waved her hand dismissively, but Eric was still uneasy. His mother wasn’t one to succumb to worry. 

He dipped his head to kiss her on the cheek and said gently, “It is just one more trip, mother, what could possibly be different about this one?”

Following the sailors carrying his trunk, he gave his mother a last wave before seeing her embark on her own ship destined to Gantrick. He looked around and took a deep breath. Salty air, algae and the unmistakable smell of fish. He started feeling more like himself with every wisp of air that entered his lungs.

Trying his best to not smile like a fool, he started making his way up the ramp to finally, _finally_ , return to the sea when he was stopped dead in his track by a very familiar and very angry face. He took in the English man standing before him with crossed arms, a deep frown and a somewhat sickly complexion.

Why was everyone so angry at him lately?

* * *

“...a disaster! A complete disaster I’m telling you! You are lucky that kingdom did not banish you forever because you very well deserve it, boy! Oh, what would your father say if he saw you behaving like this...” Eric didn’t seem bothered by Grimsby’s reprimand and kept rolling up his white sleeves leisurely, “Don’t you have something to say for yourself?!”

“So, I guess they already told you everything,” said Eric, looking pointedly at Biergh and Galen, his two accompanying servants who were standing behind Grimsby. They both looked down avoiding his gaze. “Actions speak louder than words, is what you always say, Grim. Therefore I have nothing to say, as you already know what happened with Princess Celeste.”

“Have you got no shame!” he exclaimed eyes wide in indignation.

“I did apologize to her. Grimsby, did you bring my flute?”

“On the bottom of your trunk, to the right. This is not just about Princess Celeste, Eric, it’s about how you absolutely dismiss every-”

“-single opportunity of marriage that is presented to me,” Eric finished for him while he rummaged through his clothes, “My mother already gave me the lecture, and I promised I would improve. You can stop worrying about it. Oh, here it is!” he took out his white flute and played a few notes to see if it had been damaged during the trip. Its sounds were nothing but melodious, which made him smile with satisfaction. He spun it in his hand while he walked out of his quarters, Grimsby quickly following him.

“Eric, don’t walk out on me! I promised you father that you would be married by your coronation, we only have one year left. And your behavior, Eric! That is not the upbringing your parents gave you, and to think…”

Eric stopped listening as soon as he reached deck (he had listened to Grimsby’s speech many times before, he knew it by memory), and stopped on his tracks. The hustle of the crew as they got ready to set sail was as familiar to him as his mother’s voice, and along with how he was finally out of his stuffy travelling prince clothes, he truly felt like he was finally heading home. He greeted the sailors he knew and introduced himself to the ones he didn’t, all while Grimsby still went on about “responsibilities” and “duty” behind him.

He reached Captain Hassing who was talking to one of the sentinels.

“How are we looking, Captain?” he greeted gleefully. Captain Hassing looked up at him and gave a small bow.

“Perfect conditions, Your Highness. We have good wind, not too much sun and small waves. It’s a good day for sailing, indeed. Good to have you back, Prince Eric.”

“And I am glad to be back.”

“Eric, stop ignoring me! I am absolutely serious on this!” Grimsby stood before him, stopping him from taking another step. Eric gave a tired sigh and rolled his eyes.

“I already told you I apologized, and I promised my mother I would try harder and improve my behavior. Now, you can stop screaming my ear off, Her Majesty already took care of it. She even hit me on the head, see?” he pointed at the back of his head, even if he knew there was obviously no mark on his head, “And if we are honest, Princess Celeste wasn’t giving it her all either, she hated me the second she saw me.”

Grimsby crossed his arms and huffed a puff of air indignantly.

“Humph! I wonder why, Numb-” he stopped suddenly, as if he had caught himself saying something he shouldn’t. Eric squinted his eyes at him.

“What do you mean?”

Grimsby avoided his eyes, “Nothing, I wasn’t saying anything.”

“Well maybe she heard the rumors about you, Sire!” one of the younger sailors, one that Eric knew fairly well, chimed in in a cheerful tone. Grimsby immediately walked to the young boy and lightly shoved him, prompting him to get away from the place he was standing on.

"Do not bother His Highness with such things!" he exclaimed, a bit of panic in his voice.

"Wait, Grim, I really want to know what he is talking about," Eric said, looking at them curiously. The young sailor, who now looked a little unsure himself, took a couple of steps forward, his eyes going between Grimsby and Eric back and forth.

"Well, Sire," he started quietly, "When you travel as much as we do and anchor in many ports, one ends up hearing some things. Rumors if you will."

"What kind of rumors?"

"Well…" the sailor doubted again under Grimsby's glare, but Eric prompted him to continue, "Not that I believe they are true, I would never believe that of you, Sire. But many people talk about how you are not the nicest with women and are extremely picky. And also how you don't even bother to learn their names and only call them by numbers. That's why they call you the 'The Numbering Prince', Sire. Excuse me, Sire"

The young sailor, now with a flushing face, gave a clumsy bow and scurried away from them. Eric just stood there with his mouth open. He wasn't really offended or even surprised it was more of a perplexity over how he had never known about this before. He found it even funny to a certain degree.

He chuckled, "Well that would explain why Princess Celeste hated me so much the second she saw me. Although I wonder how they found out about the number thing."

"Eric, this is not a laughing matter. That is not a good reputation for a prince to have," Grimsby shook his head, his voice tired.

Eric dismissed the matter with a wave of his hand, "I'm sure everyone will forget about it once I get myself a nice and lovely wife. We will _all_ laugh about it someday, Grim."

Grimsby sighed and took out his pipe from his pouch.

"I am sure you will make me die sooner than I must, boy," he lighted a match and moved it over his pipe. A puff of smoke came out of his mouth when he spoke. "You only make me go through stress after stress and I still bother to get you presents."

Eric smiled widely and tried to hold in his laughter.

"You brought me a present? At my age?"

"Two, actually. But one is for your birthday so you cannot see it until then."

"And what is the other one?"

"You should see it any moment n-" Before Grimsby could even finish his sentence, a familiar noise interrupted him. Eric's eyes lighted up as soon as he recognized it. He looked up to see a big sheepdog, running and barking happily towards him.

"Max!" Eric exclaimed, his lips breaking out in a big grin. The dog immediately jumped into his owner, wagging his tail and licking Eric's face as if he hadn't seen him in years. Eric laughed heartily and petted him behind his ears. "What are you doing here, you mutt?"

"You have been away from home for so long, I figured the old dog missed you."

"Thank you so much, Grimsby," Eric said sincerely, trying to not fall down under Max’s weight.

"Do not think that this means I have forgotten what you did. We are not done talking yet, Your Highness."

"Of course, Grim,” Eric wasn’t really paying attention anymore, because to him the matter was well over. He was now more preoccupied with petting his dog’s soft fur while Max sniffed everything he could reach, as if trying to figure where his human had been for such a long time for him to have all kinds of unfamiliar smells. As he expected, after a while Grimsby gave up and moved to do something else. There was not really much to talk about, in his opinion. It was not like he could change what he did in the past, the only thing he could do was do better the next time, at least for his mother. He could tell she was genuinely worried about him, and even if he acted like he didn’t, he did care.

“Let’s go find something to do, boy,” Eric said out loud to Max, who seemed excited to just follow him. From somewhere on the ship, he heard someone give the sonorous scream of ‘Weigh the anchor!’, which made Eric’s heart beat with excitement. After months of being surrounded by kings and princesses and stuck up nobility, he was going home. And not only that, but for the next few weeks we would be at the sea, a place he called home as much as the one he was born in. The sails caught the wind and the ship started moving. Eric could hear the sea calling, singing to him so clearly he could almost make out the words. 

And just like the emptiness in his heart, Eric could not explain his longing for the sea. It had always been there, as if it called his name, as if it pulled him towards it with an invisible rope. And he’d be damned if he didn’t listen.

He took a deep breath of salty air, felt the first swing of the ship and let go, He let go of his worries, his fears, everything that tied him to the life that had been given to him and at last let the sea embrace him.


	2. II. like the glimmer of the sunlight on the sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Thank you to everyone who decided to keep reading this story. I will be honest, after posting the first chapter I felt a little anxious about whether I should keep posting this story or not but I realized that I first and foremost do this for myself and writing with Eric's voice has been giving me a lot of joy, so I will keep going.

Eric felt happy, happier than he had felt in a long time. 

He hadn’t even bothered to count the days, he had absolutely no idea how long they had been sailing. He just knew that when the sun rose he walked around deck, Max always trailing happily behind him, looking for something to entertain himself with and when the night came he played his flute accompanied by the sweet voice of the waves and the songs of the sailors that told stories of magical creatures, beautiful ladies and mythical people of the sea. Every day was a bliss. 

Because he was the prince and was supposed to only be a passenger. he did not have a fixed position on the ship’s crew, he rather tried to do anything he could to help the sailors. The captain trusted him, he knew Eric knew his way on seafaring and therefore allowed him to do more than he would to a mere passenger. He allowed him to take the wheel often and even let him go aloft to fix the sails, much to Grimsby’s dismay.

They had what could be called a perfect trip, no troublesome storms or encounters with pirates as of then. It was almost as if time had stopped and no outside forces could affect them, but as they would, the days passed quickly and diligently. They had such a smooth journey that their arrival to the port in Vedhavet ended up being expected to a day after his eighteenth birthday, and not a week as it had been estimated at first.

Eric had lost all track of time that in the morning of his birthday he didn’t even remember it was his birthday, he was only aware of the fact that the ship would put in the next day, and bittersweetly realized that his voyage was over. Grimsby of course remembered, he had been counting and keeping track of the days since they first embarked. Poor, poor Grimsby had become seasick since the moment the ship moved and hadn’t stopped since then. He had gained a few snickers behind his back from the sailors and even Eric himself. He felt bad for him, but he had to admit that to him, who had never felt seasickness, seeing his old advisor go green and run to empty his stomach overboard at the slightest movement was in a way amusing.

On the morning of his eighteenth birthday there was a light drizzle and a very calm sea, so calm Grimsby wasn’t close to vomiting when he came into his quarters with his favorite porridge and a simple pastry. It was something he had done since Eric’s father died, since his career had taken a turn from advising the king to taking care of his young and unprepared son. 

Eric rubbed his eyes and frowned sleepily. It took him a few seconds to remember.

“Oh, is that today?” he asked, sitting up in his bed. Grimsby placed the platter he was carrying on the table.

“Yes, now get up. We will be in Vedhavet by the morning so we have a lot to talk about and prepare.”

Eric flopped down on his bed again, covering his head with the blanket.

“You are a man now, Your Highness, I kindly ask you to stop behaving like a child,” he heard Grimsby’s calm voice and the sound of the cutlery being set on the table.

“Come on, man. It’s my birthday, let me sleep in for today,” Eric spoke in a muffled voice against his pillow.

“I am afraid that cannot be, Prince Eric. We have a lot to do and we have to do it now if you want to be free for your celebration tonight.”

Eric let out a frustrated sigh and got out from under the blanket, sitting on the edge of his bed with tired eyes and a head of messy black hair. Grimsby let out a few silent snickers at his messy appearance and motioned him to eat his breakfast, whispering a quiet but sincere ‘Happy birthday, Eric’ before he headed out the door. Eric smiled while eating a spoonful of his porridge. 

He was not even halfway through his bowl when dread settled on his chest unexpectedly

Eighteen years. It had appeared so far away just two years ago when his studies to inherit the throne officially started, and even farther away when his father died and his uncle had become the regent king until Eric turned nineteen. He thought he had plenty of time and he thought he would be ready when the time came, but now he only had a year left and he still felt lost in every single aspect.

The truth was, he didn’t really want to be king. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his kingdom, or his people. He loved them and only wished the best for them, but he truly and sincerely felt that _he_ was not the best for them. He was too immature, too young, and no matter how much his mother and Grimsby tried to prepared him in the short time they were given, he did not feel ready. And he still had so many things he wanted to do before being tied down to his responsibilities as king. He wanted to sail across the Atlantic and visit every port in the Mediterranean. He wanted to find that piece of him that was missing, the one that called him from deep below the surface. No, he couldn’t be king yet. He hadn’t even found out who Prince Eric was, what was he supposed to do with a crown?

He cut the pastry in half with his fork, and was surprised when strawberry jam oozed out of the simple breakfast bread. It was unusual, especially considering how rare desert was on a ship and how strawberries weren’t in season yet. Someone must’ve saved it from the year before, and he could well imagine who. There weren’t many people on the ship that knew strawberries were his favorite fruit, after all. The small and caring gesture brought a small smile to his lips and made the knot in his chest a bit less suffocating.

Right before he finished, Galen knocked on his door. 

“Good morning and happy birthday, Your Highness,” he said, giving him a respectful bow. Eric stood up.

“You are late, Galen. You are normally here by the time I wake up,” he joked. Galen was the most punctual person he knew only after Grimsby.

Galen just inclined his head and walked to his bed, taking his trunk from under it, “Sir Grimsby alerted me you would be waking up earlier today, but also instructed me to give you time to finish your breakfast. This _is_ the time you wake up, Your Highness,” he finished by signaling the clock standing above the bureau. Eric let out a snort.

“Well you do have a point.”

Galen rummaged through his clothes, “So, Prince Eric, should we dress you for the occasion today?”

Eric caught a glimpse of the shiny buttons in his formal clothes and scrunched his nose. He couldn’t tell if Galen was joking or not. He eagerly shook his head.

“Do not even think about it,” he said seriously. He had traveled in prince clothes once, even in the cloudy weather it was not nice.

Eric ended up dressed in his usual, more comfortable and much more convenient loose shirt and boots. When he was dressed and ready, he went out of his room and into the deck. The light and soft drops of drizzle fell into his face, making him smile. He felt that, even despite the anxiety that his birthday was bringing him, it was going to be a good day.

* * *

The “a lot to do” didn’t turn out to be as bad as Grimsby made it out to be. Eric suspected he was just letting him off the hook because it was his birthday and the old man actually had a soft heart but decided to not mention it. He did not want to know what “a lot to do” actually meant. They mostly went over their schedule arrival and how they would be received at the port of Vedhavet, as well as the little stops they would do around town to greet his people after the months in which the coastal palace remained vacant. Grimsby made sure Eric knew everything by memory, which he did flawlessly. He might not be, in Grimsby’s words, a good listener but most of the time he had an impeccable memory.

Once his princely duties were finished the day went on as any other before it. Other than the occasional congratulations from some sailors, there was no sign on the ship that their prince celebrated his eighteenth birthday that day. It was when sunset arrived that things started going differently. Instruments and booze were brought out, as well as something big covered in cloth (Grimsby’s gift, he supposed). Some brought out fireworks from the storage room and a first round of them were launched into the night sky to mark the beginning of his birthday celebration. 

They danced and sang, a handful of beans was poured over Eric’s head as was the tradition among Vedhavet sailors and the liquor was passed around the crew, soon having everyone in the happiest state. Eric did not drink (not after the disaster of his sixteenth birthday celebration, something he did not wish to repeat), but the mood and lighthearted joy that flew around deck were enough to make him forget his worries and become a little lightheaded himself.

Once they all needed to regain their breath, they sat around one of the sailors while he directed them to sing a very popular sailing song. His name was Mikkelsen, an old sailor with a crippled leg and scars in his face. He was known among the crew for always having the best stories and legends of the sea, as well as the right voice to tell them.

The song they were singing was one Eric had heard many times before but had never listened to well. He leaned over with his elbows against his knees and gave it his utmost attention.

 _‘..._ _From whence wayward westerlies blow_ _  
_ _Where Triton is king_ _  
_ _And his merpeople sing_ _  
_ _In mysterious fathoms below’_

“They say he is the son of Poseidon,” Mikkelsen’s thundering voice started over the music, “That he holds a trident more powerful than any weapon. They say that he deplenished the sea of its dangers and malicious forces single-handedly. And we have even heard of his magnificent kingdom under the sea, with a shining castle and wonder beyond belief.”

 _‘The ruler of all the oceans is he_ _  
_ _In mysterious fathoms below’_

“But beware,” Mikkelsen continued, lowering his voice for dramatic effect, “Because when his ire strikes there is nothing that can stop it. The waves, the wind, the storms and hurricanes. They all listen and bow to his will. And be careful, lad, because if you ever do something to anger the king of the ocean, the sea will become your enemy; and no matter how badly you try to escape, there is nowhere you can run to get away from the misfortune the sea will bring you if you dare to offend it.”

 _‘There's mermaids out there in the bottomless blue_ _  
_ _An' it's hey to the starboard, heave-ho_ _  
_ _Watch out for 'em, lad, or you'll go to your ruin_ _  
_ _In mysterious fathoms below’_

Eric felt like a child again, eyes staring out in wonder and heart beating with anticipation. He had never heard this story before, and the sailors told it in a way that really made him feel they believed every word, which, even if it was for just a second, made him believe them as well. He became hyperconscious of the way the waves swung the ship around lightly, back and forth.

He turned towards his advisor.

“Isn’t this amazing, Grim? Do you think the legend is true?” he asked him with a big enchanted smile. Grimsby, of course wasn’t as amused as he was. He rolled his eyes.

“It is only a myth, Eric. A nautical superstition to explain storms and hurricanes.”

A silence immediately fell among the sailors, all eyes immediately on Grimsby with judging looks. Captain Hassing stepped forward, a bottle of liquor in his hand.

“You might think is a just a legend or ‘superstition’,” he addressed to everyone, “But we, the ones that sail the sea our entire life, know that it is true. Mikkelsen even saw one of King Triton’s people once.”

Eric immediately turned to the old sailor with raised eyebrows. 

“You saw a mermaid?” he asked with disbelief. Mikkelsen once again took the center, his cane and heavy leg making sonorous _thuds_ on the wooden floor with each step.

“It was a long time ago, maybe twenty or twenty-five years ago. I was young back then and freshly out of a long voyage when I saw her. She was sitting on a rock under the sun and singing. She had the most beautiful voice, like the sound of a thousand bells ringing. I thought she was just a strange maiden enjoying the summer day, so I came closer to ask her who she was. That’s when she turned around and our eyes met. And I am telling you lads, she was the loveliest creature my eyes had ever seen, to this day I cannot forget that face.”

“And what did she say?” one of the younger sailors asked with excitement.

“Nothing. As soon as she saw me, she gasped and dived into the ocean. But I saw it, before she disappeared beneath the surface I saw a scaly blue tail, similar in shape as that of a dolphin. I never saw her again, but I never forgot.”

“Did you ever tell someone?” asked someone else.

“Of course I did. After I saw her I ran to tell my crew, but of course, none of them believed me. They said I was drunk or even crazy, but I know what I saw. And believe me when I say that those creatures will enchant you like no other you will ever meet. Like the old song says, watch out for them.”

Whispers burst among those that had never heard Mikkelsen’s story before. Eric could not say if when he woke up the next morning he would still believe in all of those magical stories of mermaids and kings of the sea, but for just that one moment, that one night, he did.

The second round of fireworks was shot into the sky interrupting a possible discourse that was about to begin, and as if on cue, the celebration proceeded. Music was played once again with accordions and violins and soon the sailors were dancing happily around deck. Eric decided to sit for a moment and look up at the sky. The last few fireworks were exploding on the night sky, its lights being beautifully reflected on the still calm waters of the ocean. A light breeze ruffled the strands of hair over his forehead. He felt happy and at ease, almost feeling as if he could serenely fall asleep any moment without a care in the world.

A bark brought his attention to Max, who was curiously leaning over one of the limber holes. his head hanging down as if he were looking for something in the water’s surface. He frowned realizing how dangerous it would be if the ship suddenly made a harsh movement, so he called him with a low whistle. 

“Max, here boy!” Max’s head immediately raised in his direction, running towards him without losing a second. Eric laughed heartily when his dog started jumping and barking around him with excitement. “Come here, mutt! What are you doing, huh Max? Did you lose something over there?”

Max barked once again, jumping in the direction of the limber hole he was peeking through, as if asking him to follow him. Before Eric could comply, Grimsby called the attention of everyone towards himself. The music and dancing stopped.

“Silence! Silence! It is a great honor and privilege to present our esteemed Prince Eric with a very special, very expensive, very large birthday present,” He signaled the big covered object sitting in the center of the deck with his hand. Eric examined the gift; maybe it was a statue, considering its size and overall shape. Unless it was a misshapen horse that would stand still for a very long time, he couldn’t really think of anything else. 

He slapped Grimsby on his back with maybe a bit too much enthusiasm.

“Grimsby, you old beanpole, you shouldn’t have.”

“I know,” Grimsby responded unamusingly, “Happy birthday, Eric!”

A group of sailors aided on uncovering Grimsby’s gift, the cloth falling in a dramatic flair and…

Eric hated it. He really, really, really hated it.

He had guessed correctly, it was a statue of himself. Well, it was him, but at the same time it wasn’t. The statue Eric had a serious and fearless expression on his face and was dressed in extravagant royal clothes, something Eric would never wear if he could do something about it. The statue’s pose was stiff, even for a statue, as if even this reimagined version of himself didn’t know what he was doing with that sword, shield and prestigious posture. The statue was wrong in all aspects. Eric was pretty sure if he met this man somewhere he would hate him in an instant and probably laugh at him with the sailors. It wasn’t him, he could not see even a small fragment of himself in this Prince Eric of marble.

A king, he mentally snapped his fingers with realization. That’s what it looked like. It looked like a powerful and confident king that never doubted himself. No wonder it seemed to be a completely different person.

“Gee, Grim… this is, um,” he struggled to find words that did not show how distasteful and gaudy he found it to be, “This is really something.”

Something horrible, showy, borderline perturbing. 

Fortunately, Grimsby didn’t seem to notice his dislike, or at least he didn’t show to.

“I commissioned it myself. Though I was hoping it would be a _wedding_ present, Prince Eric.”

“Oh, please don’t start again!” Eric exclaimed with exasperation. “It’s been weeks. Don’t tell me you are still sour because I didn’t fall for the Princess of Glowerhaven.”

“She was such a good option. I suggested her myself. She is smart, sensible and I am sure you would’ve enjoyed her company if you had gotten around to know her.”

“Yes, well she wasn’t the one. Conversation over.” Eric walked away from him and leaned against the board, his eyes fixed on the full moon being covered by clouds. Grimsby quickly followed behind him.

“And what about the others? Princess Anne, Princess Henrietta, Lady Charlotte?”

“None of them were the one for me either.”

“Why? Just tell me, Eric. What was wrong with them?”

“There was absolutely nothing wrong with them. I just could’ve never loved them even if I tried.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just do.”

“ _How?_ ’

“It’s complicated.” 

Eric dropped his face in his hands with a frustrated blush, digging his fingers into his scalp. There was a silence between them for a few seconds until Grimsby spoke again with a lower and gentler tone.

“Then explain it to me.”

Eric raised his head towards him. Grimsby’s face was sincere and encouraging. He really meant it, he really wanted to understand, but Eric wasn’t sure he would even if he tried to explain. He didn’t even understand it himself and had never tried to put it into words. And Grimsby was such a no-nonsense person, matters of the heart were not a topic Eric could see him discussing, but he looked at him again. This was the man that had practically raised him since he was thirteen, the one that accompanied him through all of his growing pains and fears. And Grimsby cared about him more than he dared to say, Eric knew he did.

He took a deep breath. What the hell.

“It’s as if…” he started unsurely, immediately hesitating. Grimsby encouraged him with a smile. “Well, it’s as if, I don’t know Grim, as if a piece of me is missing. As if that piece has been missing my entire life and nothing will fill that void until I find what is meant to be there. I-” he hesitated again when he saw Grimsby frown at his words, “I know it may sound stupid or childish but-”

“No, no,” he was cut by Grimsby, “Please continue.”

“There is not really much to say anyway. I just feel as if I am looking for something, or someone.” He considered it, but he ended up not mentioning the pull he felt towards the sea, and how whenever he was in its arms he felt that void inside of him both emptier and fuller than any other time. 

“And do you think that finding the right girl will be that, missing piece you talk about?” Grimsby asked. Eric could not tell if he was really taking him seriously. He sighed and looked up at the sky. He could not see the moon anymore.

“I don’t know, Grim. Maybe? Maybe it is something else, I won’t know until I find it. But I do know that is not them. I know it sounds ridiculous, trust me, but I _know_ they are not the one for me. As soon as I lock eyes with them I know.”

“But, Eric, when the time comes in which you must bring a queen to Vedhavet you won’t be able to jump around like a hummingbird chasing after an illusion.”

“No, I know it is not an illusion. I know she must be somewhere, I just haven’t found her yet.”

“Well, perhaps you haven’t been looking hard enough,” Grimsby remarked with a significative look on his face. Eric knew what he meant _‘Maybe if you tried a little bit harder.’_ He smiled lightly seeing how the waves crashed against the side of the boat. He shook his head. 

“Believe me, Grim, when I find her I’ll know -without a doubt. I’ll just, hit me. Like lightning.”

Grimsby closed his eyes and sighed tiredly, putting a hand against his forehead. “Like lightning you say.”

And, well, Eric should’ve known. Maybe if he had been paying more attention, if he hadn’t been so distracted daydreaming about mermaids and soulmates, he may have noticed the signs. It was right there, in front of his eyes. They had had such a perfect trip, something had to happen sooner or later and it was foolish of them to let their guard down. So when the first lightning struck and thunder roared, when the lookout announced a hurricane coming, rather than shock Eric was hit with a sudden _‘oh’_ of realization.

They had to act fast. Any thought that wasn’t about how urgently they needed to secure the rigging suddenly vanished from Eric’s mind. The light drizzle that had felt so nice against his face just hours earlier now poured down like cold and sharp needles against his skin, the wind strong enough to knock him down if he let it. Pulling the ropes of the rigging was like a fight against a giant, and they were losing.

Around him, people ran in all directions and he could only see chaos everywhere he looked. He could not see Grimsby or Max anywhere. Galen and Biergh were nowhere to be seen either, and Eric felt a jab in his chest when he couldn't find twelve-year-old Victor, the youngest on the ship, among the chaotic crew.

When one of the strong waves knocked Eric down for the fourth time, he knew it was a lost cause and they would not be able to save the ship from the storm. He stood up as best as he could, his focus changing from fighting against the storm to keeping control as long as he could so the crew could set the small boats on the sea and get out of there as fast as possible. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could already see some crewmen cutting the ropes of the boats, which meant he had not been the only one to come to that conclusion.

He ran shakily towards the wheel and saw one of the sailors knocked down on the floor next to it, as well as the wheel turning to the right out of control. The ship had started to lean sideways, water already filling the front deck with a powerful wave. Eric helped the sailor to his feet.

“Get to the boats! Get out of here, quickly!” Eric screamed at him. The sailor did not hesitate to follow his orders, his self-preservation winning against their duty to protect the prince. Eric did not care.

He stopped the wheel from turning and pulled it to his left with all his might. He let out of grunt as the wheel forcefully became stable again, barely, just enough to keep the ship from toppling over. Lightning struck so close he felt the hairs on the back of his head stand. His breath was caught in his throat when fire started spreading across the sails, rapidly reaching the wooden mast.

“Everyone get out, right now!” he yelled again, trying to make himself be heard over the thunder and rain.

Only a few people remained on the ship by then. He heard someone call his name desperately.

“Eric!” he was shocked to see Grimsby walking slowly towards him, holding tightly from the railing. “We have to get out! Leave that there!”

Eric shook his head decidedly, “I’ll just make sure everyone gets out. Don’t wait for me, go to the-”

“Watch out!”

He only saw the rocks for one second and the next they were being thrown overboard, falling heavily on the sea. It was painful, hitting the water from that height, and he did not expect any less but he also figured it could’ve been worse. At least he wasn’t dead and could still move. He flung his arms and legs and propelled himself towards the surface. He took a big gulp of air and looked around searching for the nearest boat. He spotted one at least five meters away from him. Grimsby was not far from him struggling to keep himself afloat, so Eric quickly held him under his arms and took him to the boat.

He hadn’t even been securely on the boat for five seconds before he heard a vague bark, coming from the inferno that was now their ship. His blood ran cold.

 _Max_.

Eric heard Grimsby call him, but it was too late because he had already dove into the water again. He was not leaving anyone behind, much less his best friend. He climbed on the side of the ship and jumped into what was left of the deck. The fire had spread everywhere, its heat immediately prickling at his skin. Smoke was entering his lungs and he had difficulty breathing, but he tried his best to call his dog’s name. 

He heard his barking again and Eric finally spotted Max perched over the forecastle, surrounded by flames. He looked around. The stairs were all on fire, he had no way of reaching him. He ran and positioned himself right under the forecastle, as close as he could get. Max barked even more desperately when he saw him.

“Max, jump!” he screamed, holding his arms out. “You can do it, boy! I’ll catch you, come on, Max!”

A few seconds in which he feared that Max would be too afraid to do it passed before Eric saw his dog throwing himself off the ledge and then fall heavily on his arms. Eric held him tightly and ran, his heavy dog suddenly feeling light as a feather. He ran and ran as fast as he could to the place he had climbed through. They could make it, he only had to reach the board and they would be okay. They would be in Vedhavet in the morning and they could forget all of this happened.

The board was at arm’s length, so, so close, and suddenly he fell to the floor, Max flying out of his arms. His foot had gone through the wooden deck and he could not take it out. He tried yanking it out, tried pulling his leg with his hands but it was all to no avail and it only resulted in pain flying from his ankle up to his knee. He had definitely strained it, or worse.

He kept trying. The fire was closer and hotter every second and he pulled and pulled until the pain was bad enough to make him want to scream. Tears filled his eyes and his breath became jagged. He pulled again. He was never going to see his mother again. He felt the sting of a burn in his right arm. Grimsby would never scold him again, Carlotta would never give him a hug when he was feeling down again, he would never meet the love of his life, he would never know what kind of king he could be. 

The last thing he saw before the ship exploded was Grimsby’s horrified face from the boat and the bright full moon that was not supposed to be there.

* * *

Eric had never thought much about how he would die. He was not the kind of person to fret too much over things he had no control over. However, maybe if he had thought about it this would’ve been the most appropriate conclusion. At sea, letting its waters take him to whatever the current decided would be his resting place.

He wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. All he knew was that one moment every part of his body hurt, and the next he couldn’t feel anything. Maybe he was already dead and this was the afterlife people talked about. It wasn’t as peaceful as he had imagined, and it was cold. Why was he so cold?

He had heard that before they died people saw their entire life flashing before their eyes, but when he could finally see something it wasn’t a collection of moments. It was one memory specifically, from when he was thirteen. He was sitting in the palace’s drawing room, earlier than he would’ve been awake on a normal day. He remembered the blue tones of the morning slowly filling the room as he waited. What was he waiting for? Why was he sitting there, still in his night clothes, when he should be sleeping?

Carlotta entered the room, a sad expression on her face and clearly on the verge of crying. She kneeled before him and took one of his hands on hers. Carlotta’s hands were always warm.

“Eric, dear,” she started, “Remember how I told you that my sister became an angel a few years ago?”

“Yes, Carlotta,” he responded. He knew what this was about.

“Well, dear, now your father is an angel too. He has gone to heaven,” and with that, the tears started falling down her cheeks.

Eric wasn’t a little child anymore, he could understand what death was and didn’t need Carlotta to explain to him that his father ‘had become an angel’, but he didn’t say anything to her at the moment to not hurt her feelings. He wasn’t surprised, he knew his father had been sick the past couple of months and that the doctors had not been able to help him. He knew it would happen. 

His father had never really been present as a father should be in his life, to Eric he had always been the King. And yet, he cried, because despite it all he was still his father. Carlotta held him and cried as well. Eric remembered wondering why Carlotta was crying. Maybe she knew or remembered a version of his father that he did not.

_…ive where you are._

How would people remember him? Would some of them, like Carlotta when his father died, remember a part of him that wasn’t there anymore? Maybe his uncle would remember a nephew that listened to what he had to say and wasn’t always trying to run away to the sea. He hoped the sailors remembered the better version of himself rather than the helpless boy he had been during the shipwreck. Grimsby as well. He would hate if that last memory was all they kept of him.

_… stay here beside you._

What would his mother do without him? She hadn’t cried when his father died because she was stronger than anyone he knew, but how would she withstand the death of her son? Would she be able to move on? He wanted to believe she would. 

Would the kingdom cry for their immature and carefree prince, the one that had never seem to be there for them? Would they remember him as someone who could’ve been a great king or would they be relieved that he never got the chance to? He wondered who would inherit the throne. Maybe his uncle would become the rightful king and the Crown of Vedhavet would officially pass to his family. 

Which one of his cousins would become the next King or Queen? Claudius was the oldest, or maybe kind Abel, or maybe Hedvig since she was smarter than all of them. Or maybe-

 _What would I do to see you_ _  
_ _Smiling at me?_

His whirlwind of thoughts stopped abruptly, all thoughts of death and crowns suddenly vanished. He knew that if we were still conscious of his own body his eyes would have flown open and he would have lost all breath inside of him. He felt warm and cold at the same time, both like he was flying and plummeting against the ground with the force of all seven seas.

Like bells ringing, like rain falling against his window and the delicate flight of a dove. He wouldn’t be able to stop listening even if he wanted to. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard, so clear and pristine like a fresh spring and yet so warm and real he knew he would be able to touch it if he reached out his hand. He wanted to reach out, he wanted to open his eyes. He had to open his eyes.

No matter how hard he tried all he could see was darkness, he tried to open his mouth but his lips remained shut.

 _Where would we walk?_   
_Where would we run?_ _  
_ If we could stay all day in the sun

Maybe he _had_ died, maybe he was dead and he somehow had done enough good to go to heaven. Maybe this voice was the angels Carlotta talked about. But why, if this was his welcome to the afterlife, it rather made him want to stand up and keep living? He had to open his eyes. He felt like his chest was being ripped open and as if he could cry and laugh at the same time if he could move. He wanted to run from the faraway place where his conscious was towards _her_ , that voice, hold her and never let her go. He felt happy and longing like no other and- _oh._

Just like that, he knew. 

Eric had never really thought about what he would do when he found her. He may have imagined a better situation, maybe a ball, or one of those meetings his mother organized. But not this, not one in which he couldn't even tell her how long he had been waiting. Not one in which he couldn't even open his eyes long enough to see her face. He had to open his eyes, he had to open his eyes.

Finally, he did, albeit for a few seconds before they shut down on their own accord. His head pounded with the light hitting his eyes like a bullet, but he did not regret it. He saw a shadow against the bright light of sunrise and he was able to see two blurry eyes that looked at him with adoration. He was able to move his arm enough to reach for a soft and warm hand that was gently caressing his cheek. He felt himself let out a sigh of almost relief. She was there and she was real and she was singing to him with that beautiful voice. He opened his eyes for another second and before they closed again he saw her lips move.

“ _Just you and me, and I could be part of your world._ ”

He was able to open his mouth. He wanted to ask her so many things and tell her so much but all that he was able to push out was an incoherent murmur. He thought he heard someone calling but he didn’t care enough to pay attention because _she was here and he had finally found her_. 

Suddenly he felt her hand slip out of his fingers. He forced himself to open his eyes again just to see her once more but found nothing but the yellow sky of sunrise in front of him. Dread settled inside of him when he realized that he couldn’t hear her voice anymore. _No, please. Don’t leave me yet. Stay with me for just a bit more. Please, don’t go._ He tried to stand up but his body was not obeying anymore. He wanted to scream.

“Eric!” someone called again. She couldn’t have gone far, if he was able to walk he could find her, he knew he could. 

“Whe-” his voice came out raspy and weak. His vision finally cleared and he realized he was laying on the sand, just a couple of meters away from the sea. He couldn’t have possibly dragged himself out of the water, especially after all that happened the night before. Someone had to have taken him out, someone else had to bring him there. It was her, it had to be, she saved him.

“Eric!” the voice felt closer. He felt a wet nose sniffing his face at the same time the owner of the voice held him from under his arms and helped him sit up on the sand. He looked around in all directions but couldn’t see her anywhere. She was gone. Eric almost whimpered. “Oh, Eric. You really delight in these sadistic strains on my blood pressure, don’t you.”

“A girl..” Eric tried to say, his voice still weak, “She rescued me. Did you see where she went? She was singing. She had-” he let out a big gulp of air. The pain was already returning to his body. “She had the most beautiful voice.”

“Ah, Eric. I think you’ve swallowed a bit too much seawater. Off we go. Come one, Max.”

“No, she was just here, I have to-” but Grimsby was already walking him away from the shore. He looked back to the water and could see nothing but Max barking towards the ocean. He couldn’t register that he probably needed to see a doctor or even that Grimsby was taking him to his home in Vedhavet. All that mattered to him at that moment was that she was gone without even a trace he could follow and that he felt emptier than he had ever felt in his life.

He felt lost. So, so lost. Everything hurt and his vision was coming and going once again. He couldn’t do anything but let Grimsby take him to the palace. He dared to look back once more. Nothing, as if she had disappeared on thin air. He was sure he was about to cry.

_Where are you?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!!!


	3. III. just beyond the pale horizon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Eric is home and he is angsty. This ch was a little bit harder to write but overall and I am kind of satisfied with how it came out, so I hope y'all enjoy.

“Eric, stop looking at me like that.”

Eric hadn’t realized he was looking at her in a specific way but became conscious of how his eyebrows were set over his eyes in what could almost be a glare. He considered smoothing his features because after all, it wasn’t Carlotta’s fault, but he found that his frustration was not letting him. He opted for glaring at the ceiling instead.

“I have to-”

“You are not going anywhere,” Carlotta quickly cut him, tightening her hold on his foot while she wrapped the bandages around his ankle, “You heard the doctor. Complete rest at least until your ankle heals. Look at the state of you, it’s the least you can do after what your body has been through.”

“I am fine, I just need to go out for maybe a couple of hours-”

“You won’t and no, you are not. You almost died, Eric.”

She was right of course. The doctor’s diagnosis had been a sprained ankle, bruises all over his body, burns in his right arm (not severe enough to cause permanent damage but he would have a scar to tell the tale), a fever he had been presenting since Grimsby found him on the shore and of course those “strange hallucinations” and his “difficulty to distinguish them from reality.”

Delirious, that’s the word the doctor had used to describe him. His delusions were probably caused by exhaustion and even a lack of oxygen, nothing more than figments of a very tired and imaginative mind. The doctor’s solution had been to give him a medicine that made him feel drowsy so he could properly rest and recover his mental stability. Eric hated how it was making him feel, his memories had become hazier than they already were and he was feeling even more confused at everything that had happened in the last twelve hours. The effects of the medicine were already making it hard to keep his eyes open and his feelings of frustration from vanishing as if they were nothing.

He dug his nails into his palms to keep himself awake.

“I have to find her,” he tried to say firmly, but it came out more like a drunken slur. Carlotta sighed tiredly.

“Eric...”

“She is out there. I just-” his voice trailed out in a whisper. He closed his eyes and shook his head trying to clear his thoughts but then realized that he couldn’t open them again. “She saved my life, I want to at least thank her.”

“That will have to wait until you get better.”

No, she didn’t understand. Eric started feeling himself slipping into unconsciousness and the medicine playing with his emotions. Without even realizing his lip started trembling like that of a child.

“Carlotta, please,” he whispered shakily. If he were more conscious he would’ve probably cringed at himself. He most definitely looked pitiful.

“Oh, child,” he heard Carlotta say. Her voice already sounded farther away than she actually was. He vaguely felt her moving his fringe out of his face gently, “When you wake up, I’ll help you find her. I promise.”

“But…”

_ What if she disappears before I wake up? _

* * *

The sun was already setting on the horizon when Eric regained his conscience. His entire body felt stiff and there was a light throbbing in his temple, but he had to give the doctor some credit because he did feel better. Or at least, he didn’t feel like he was alternating between being awake and dreaming every five seconds.

He sat up in his bed and rubbed his face. Red hues entered from his window and everything was as still as unperturbed water. It was surreal, the fact that he was now laying in his own bed, in his familiar room, after everything that happened. His thoughts were a mess and he wasn’t sure what he had to do now.

_ Start with what you know and continue from there,  _ his mother always advised him when he was presented with a difficult problem. Alright, what he knew. There was a shipwreck, he could’ve died (he  _ was _ going to die), someone rescued him, of that he was sure, she sang in a voice that he could still feel ringing in his ears, she disappeared, everyone is convinced that he imagined her but he knows she is real. Something else he knew: he had to find her, no matter what he had to see her again.

So that was his next step.

He felt a pull on his chest, once again realizing how many hours had passed since he was found on the shore. It was probably going to be so much harder to find her now that so much time passed, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him. He used all of his strength to pull himself from under the cover and put his feet on the wooden floors while trying to stand on his unsprained foot. The floor immediately let out a loud protesting squeak. Eric cursed quietly.

He gave it ten seconds, maximum. He counted in his mind and when he got to eight the door opened in a rushed manner. Grimsby walked in with a quick step, looking much neater and put together than a normal person that was in a shipwreck just the night before should. He narrowed his eyes at him.

“Now where exactly do you think you are going, Your Highness?”

“Outside,” Eric replied blankly. Gone was the playful tone that he always used when someone scolded him. Now he was absolutely serious.

“You are very funny, Prince Eric, hilarious I would say. Now back to bed,” Grimsby closed the door behind him and ushered Eric to lay down in bed again. Eric remained seated on the edge of his bed with an almost accusing look on his face.

“I told you that someone rescued me. I want to look for her.”

Grimsby pursed his lips and raised his eyes as if praying. 

“There was no one on the beach this morning, Eric. And how could a girl have possibly saved you? You were in the middle of the sea with Vedhavet being the nearest shore. It’s just not possible.”

“Then how did I survive? I was unconscious until I woke up on the shore. I couldn’t have swum all the way here.  _ That  _ is not possible.”

“Maybe you did but you don’t remember, you had quite a fever when I found you. Or maybe the current brought you here.” That made even less sense “I do not know, Eric, but that is not important anymore. What matters is that by some miracle you are alive and you are home. Let’s just all forget this all happened.”

Forget? How could he ever forget? Those loving eyes, that gentle hand and that beautiful, breathtaking voice were deep-etched in his mind with no way of removing them. That girl had disappeared taking his entire heart and Eric didn’t want it back.

He shook his head adamantly.

Grimsby sighed with exhaustion and rested his forehead on his hand. Finally, he said firmly:

“You have to stay in bed for at least two weeks, doctor’s order.”

Eric crossed his arms over his chest and repeated, “I want to find her.”

“Good Lord, you are as stubborn as a mule!” Grimsby exclaimed in frustration. “Listen here. You cannot move from here until you properly heal, but will it make you happy if we send searching parties across the region for the girl that saved the prince?”

He was being sarcastic, but Eric didn’t care at the moment. The proposal was less than perfect, but he also knew there would be no way of negotiating with his old advisor. He scoffed. And he called  _ him _ stubborn.

Eric grumbled and muttered under his breath, “Fine.”

Grimsby gave him a stiff nod and turned on his heel towards the door, “Your dinner will be brought shortly. Now, excuse me,” he made way towards the exit. Eric had to swallow the bitter taste in his mouth before he could bring himself to stop him.

“Is anyone dead?” he spat bluntly. Grimsby stopped in his tracks. “The crew. Is anyone dead?”

Grimsby answered quickly without looking at him, “No, we had some injuries but no deaths.” For a second, Eric felt some relief bloom in his tight chest. “Now, if you try to use that bad ankle even a little forget our deal. Understood, Your Highness?”

Eric didn’t bother to answer before Grimsby went out the door and left him by himself in his room. He buried his face on the pillow in exasperation. He was never used to receiving all he wanted (his mother had made sure that she was not raising a spoiled prince) but for that instant, he wished he was. Things would be so much easier if he could just order everyone around as he had seen other princes do. Eric was both blessed and cursed with too many authority figures.

He lay down on his back and stared at one of the posters of his bed up to the tester, observing the scratch marks he had made when he was twelve years old and angry. He hadn’t felt that much since he was that age, at least until that present moment in which he felt that his chest was going to explode with all the different emotions swirling around.

He started humming absentmindedly. He barely remembered the lyrics, the phrase  _ “Just you and me” _ kept repeating over and over in his mind, but he remembered the melody. It was sweet and calming like a lullaby, the best one he had ever heard. The notes kept replaying on his mind. Maybe Fa, Sol, La... He reached his hand towards the bottom drawer of his bedside cabinet, still humming that lovely melody.

His favorite flute had most likely been lost in the shipwreck, but he was sure he had one of his older ones somewhere. He found it sitting next to some old notebooks of his. This one was made of wood rather than ivory like the one he had lost, but it would definitely work just as well.

“What was it again…” he muttered while positioning his fingers on the keys he had in mind. He brought the flute to his mouth and played a few Fa’s followed by Sol, La and a couple of Re’s. He frowned, the melody was definitely there but something wasn’t right. He tried again, changing the Re’s for lower Do’s. And there it was, the melody was echoing in his room, materialized. It was real, she was definitely real.

Before he could try for the rest of the verses, he heard a scratching sound in his door that he knew very well. He smiled and raised his voice.

“Can someone open the door? I am not allowed to walk.” Not even a second later he heard hurried steps of most likely a servant and then claws clicking on the wooden floor once the door was open. Max’s hairy white head peeked from the edge of his bed. Eric smiled and sat up, “Hey, boy, come here.”

Max jumped on the bed making it sink under his weight. He calmly settled next to him and put his head over his lap. Eric scratched him behind his ears. He was calmer than normal, usually he would jump on the bed enthusiastically and lick his face happily but Eric couldn’t really blame him. It had been a pretty hectic day for everyone. Eric heard him whine.

“I am okay, Max, I’ll be good as new before you know,” Eric said out loud, “I am so glad you are okay, too, I was afraid you had not been able to escape the ship.”

He stayed silent for a couple of seconds, just looking out of his window and seeing how the stars were already appearing in the darkening sky. He brought the flute back to his lips and played the next verse. Fa, Sol, La. 

“You saw her, didn’t you?” he asked in a soft voice. Max raised his head in interest and as the only response, he tilted his head slightly and gave a low bark. Eric chuckled. Of course, his only witness would be a dog. How cruel was fate? 

He raised the flute again and kept playing.

Eric figured out the rest of the song, coming to him as naturally as his native language did. Then he played it over and over again as if he was afraid he would forget if he didn’t, though he knew that would never happen. That song was never going to leave him even if he wanted it to. When he finally stopped, the last Fa lingered in his room faithfully, like a promise.

_ Just you and me, and I could be... _

Eric clutched the flute in his hand, close to his heart.

“I will find her, Max,” he said barely above a whisper, but more determined than he had ever been in his life, “Even if it’s the last thing I do.”

* * *

And so, they looked for her. Grimsby had become even more exasperated with him when he told him that he couldn’t even remember what she looked like, (and according to him, lovely eyes and beautiful voice were not a good enough description to look for someone). So, the word that the prince was looking for the girl that saved him from a shipwreck was spread by searching parties across the nearby town and the neighboring villages, and along with it, rumors that the prince had finally lost his mind. Eric didn’t mind, at least not at the moment. Many people already thought he wasn’t right in his head anyway.

For the next few days, there was a buzz going around town. Some even claimed that the prince would finally marry if he was convinced he had found that mystery girl. Consequently, some girls even showed up to the palace or presented themselves to the searching parties claiming to be the one that had saved the prince, but it was not easy to fool him. One look at them, one note he asked them to sing and it was an instant giveaway. He immediately asked to be taken back to his room.

Two weeks passed, his ankle healed for the most part and she wasn’t found yet. Eric was growing moodier every day and everyone noticed. He didn’t joke around anymore, he only ate when he was reminded to and now everyone felt like they had to tiptoe around him. The palace was drowned into still and expectant silence.

Carlotta was strict with him in some ways and coddled him more than usual in others. She brought food to him every day and indulged him even when he was in one of his moods. He figured it was because he had almost died just days before. He barely remembered, but he could see in his memory the way Carlotta had hugged him close to her with tears in her eyes when Grimsby had brought him to the palace that morning. Grimsby too, even if Eric had been too distracted to notice, he knew the old man was relieved to his core that the young prince was alive. They were all worried about him, and in some moments of peace, Eric was able to reflect that maybe it was unfair of him to be so focused on his own problems when the people around him were having a hard time because of him.

But as much as he loved them, he couldn’t bring himself to worry about it too much. He was most definitely being selfish, but his desire to find her was too overwhelming.

As soon as he could walk without supervision again, he joined the search. He rode in a horse, sometimes in a phaeton, looking at every woman that crossed his path but turning his gaze in disappointment when he, once again, felt nothing inside of him. He got as far as Faretvild, a small village hours from the coast where some people had never even seen the sea in their lives. 

Eric returned home that day at sunset, with a heavy heart and brooding eyes. Grimsby was already seated at the table eating dinner. Eric walked past him in the direction of his room.

“Ah, Eric. I thought you would be home later, I did not wait for you. Please take a seat, the pork is really good today,” Grimsby exclaimed, taking another bite of his food.

Eric kept walking, “I am not hungry.”

“You have to eat something.”

“I am not hungry,” he repeated a bit more forcefully. His temper rose so much easily those days.

“Eric, you cannot continue like this.”

Eric turned on his heel and looked at Grimsby. He was looking at him the way that he always did whenever he ruined another chance of marriage with a new girl, but other than those usual expressions of vexation and disappointment, he could also see worry in his eyes. Eric was too irritated to be moved; he only wanted to get into bed and rest so he could continue his search the next day.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, please. You know perfectly what I mean. You cannot continue to walk around like a wounded animal chasing after, nothing more than a dream,” Grimsby was slowly also raising his voice, his pale face going red gradually.

Eric felt anger bubbling up his chest, “She was not a dream! When I find her, you’ll see.”

“You have to stop. You cannot waste your life away because of these absurd delusions. I will not allow it!”

“Can you stop using that word? I don’t care about what that doctor said, I was not dreaming and  _ I was not delirious _ !” Eric could also feel his face growing warmer and his heart beating faster.

“But that is exactly what you are being. Are you not listening to yourself? You are being irrational, Eric. And I am telling you, it’s all because of those saliors’ foolish tales. They played with your mind that night.”

Eric rolled his eyes, “That has nothing to do with it. I did not imagine a mermaid, a girl saved me and she was real.”

“She was just an illusion and it’s time for you to accept that.”

Eric’s face darkened, “I  _ will _ find her, Grimsby.”

“You will not-”

“Yes, I will find her and I will marry her!”

His words were out of his mouth before he knew. They came bubbling out as if they had just been waiting to come out at the first chance. A silence fell upon them and Eric was hit with the realization that he did not regret his declaration, nor would he take it back. He meant it, with all his heart.

Grimsby gaped at him, shock written all over his features.

“Eric you cannot be serious.” he choked out, looking at the young man as if he had lost his mind. Maybe he had.

“I am absolutely serious. Isn’t that what everyone wanted. Well, congratulations! As soon as I find her, Prince Eric will finally get married.”

Grimsby stood up from his chair abruptly and stared at him with disbelief. He seemed at a loss of words for what felt like hours of heavy silence. He finally pursed his lips and brought his shoulders back.

“I truly hope you wake up before it’s too late, Eric. Because we will lose you and you will lose yourself if you continue like this.” 

With that, he left behind a half-eaten plate and walked out of the hall, his shoes echoing loudly. Eric stood there breathing heavily before he too went to his room. He rushed to open his window as soon as the door was closed behind him, letting the fresh air in. His lungs felt like they were filled with rocks that climbed up his throat with every intake of air. After what could’ve been seconds or minutes, with each breath his anger subsided. He took off his jacket and threw it on the floor.

Out of his window, clouds covered the stars and moon and thunder rumbled in the distance. He reached for his flute and sat on the floor by the foot of his bed. His heart was still beating rapidly when he played the song once again. It was a rash decision, one he could not explain, but he could also not bring himself to take it back. He had never been in love before. Was this how love was supposed to feel? As if his heart was so full it could explode any second? Like all of the answers he was looking for were finally found in this one person with the beautiful voice? Someone whose face he could not even remember?

_ You are being foolish _ , he could almost hear his mother telling him. He did not listen. He knew he was being foolish, he knew it didn’t make sense, but he loved her. His heart was screaming at him that he did.

The melody flew delicately out of his instrument.

_ Where would we walk, where would we run… _

Drops of rain started falling down, entering through his open window. Eric did not close it.

* * *

Breakfast the next morning was overwhelmingly awkward. Eric sat at the head of the table with a stiff back and red cheeks, barely moving the food around with his fork. Grimsby sat to his right with a sour face and indifferently taking bites off his plate every couple of seconds. None of them spoke a word to each other.

Eric’s head was not as hot as it was the night before, and therefore he was able to see more clearly. Maybe he had jumped to anger too quickly (though he still believed he had a reason to be angry). Grimsby was worried about him. Eric was not stupid and could see that everyone was. Maybe, just maybe, he should’ve been at least more understanding of where Gimsby’s concerns were coming from; even if he did not agree with them.

He pushed a piece of sausage around and cleared his throat. He took a deep breath and put his fork down. Apologies never came easily to him.

“Grim, I-” he started but was shut down when Grimsby talked over him without an ounce of telling emotion in his voice.

“Your Highness, if you don’t mind, I would like it if we took today to revise our pending issues regarding this summer’s Heather Festival as well as the upcoming harvest season.”

“Uh...” was the most intelligent thing Eric could utter.

“Very well, because I believe the Queen intended you to take care of the preparations this year. Not to mention, the pressing matters concerning the harvest. Half of Mr. Collin’s sowing was ruined because of the wind and there is a land dispute between Mr. Birk and Miss Kaysen. We have so much to do and so much time lost,” Grimsby wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up. Not even bothering to wait for Eric’s response, he inclined his head towards him, “Meet me at noon in the studio.”

Grimsby was out of the hall before Eric could register half of what he had said, His apology was still in his semi-open lips, and his eyes were still wide open in shock at being so rudely interrupted. 

Grimsby used to do that, more often when he was younger. Whenever they would have a big disagreement or what could even be called a “fight”, Grimsby would give him the cold treatment for a couple of hours and then act as if nothing had happened but retaining a certain attitude that let the young prince know it was not forgotten. He had mostly stopped doing that when Eric was around sixteen, preferring to be straightforward and tell him directly what the problem was. He could not imagine what had caused the sudden comeback of this habit.

Eric miraculously finished his food, and right before the clock struck twelve he was seated in his father’s old studio. Grimsby had already presented him with the pile of unfinished work he had to do. He had almost forgotten, with the commotion of the shipwreck and his search for her he barely remembered anything that had happened before he boarded the ship in Glowerhaven. But his long list of chores was there, faithfully, reminding him that he still had a life.

He spent the day inside for the first time since his ankle healed. The Heather Festival was a lot harder to manage than he imagined because while the townspeople organized most of it by themselves as it was tradition, so many things needed his approval. Even the littlest thing like the place the musicians would play at and whether heather blossoms should be cut a week earlier than they should be to be able to have them decorate the square needed a signature and a royal seal. He didn’t want to think about doing it all over again for the following month’s Festival of the Sea. Why did Vedhavet have so many summer festivals? It was very impractical if someone asked him.

The harvest matters were even more complicated. That disputed piece of land ended going to Miss Kaysen because it had belonged to her grandfather, and Mr. Collin’s lost sowing made him pull at his hair when he realized how it would impact those who depended on his harvest. Grimsby and him ended up planning a rationing plan of leeks in case of a shortage.

They didn’t talk about anything else that wasn’t royal business for a long while, and Eric was so focused on his work that even he forgot. It was until they somehow started talking about blue or pink ribbons for the royal phaeton that he started getting distracted with the sound of light rain splattering against the glass window and that song stuck in his head. He felt a pull in his heart.

“I know I saw her, Grim,” he said softly out of nowhere. Grimsby’s pen stopped scratching the paper abruptly, “I know you don’t believe me, and I understand but… I at least ask you to trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

There was a short silence between them before Grimsby put down his pen and brought his hands together over the desk.

“It is not that I don’t trust you, I know you are a very sensible young man, despite what I say so many times. It is just not possible. A girl saving you in the middle of the ocean? How can that be possible? Especially considering that no one else saw her.”

“I know, but-”

“However,” Grimsby continued before he could say another word, “I know that when you are convinced of something no force in this world will be able to change your mind, so go ahead. Look for her. You cannot convince me that you will be successful, but I hope for your own good that you find some peace regarding this matter.”

Eric almost sighed with relief, “Thank you, Grim.”

“My only request is that you do not lose yourself in this. Take care of your health, do not let it overtake your emotions and we are working on this,” he tapped the papers on the desk with his fingers, “more often as we promised your mother. Are we clear on that?”

Eric felt the corners of his lips pull in what could almost be a smile. Too many authority figures indeed.

“As water.”

Grimsby gave him a nod, “Good, now I believe we have done enough today. You can do whatever you please with your afternoon, though I would prefer if you didn’t go out today,” he looked out the window, “I believe we have a storm coming.”

Eric looked outside as well. The light rain was gradually becoming a heavy pour and the dark clouds made the day appear later than it really was. From what he could see from the window, there was high tide and big, violent waves hitting against the shore. ‘King Triton must be angry’ the sailors always said when the weather became like that so suddenly. Those memories made him miss the sea, realizing that he hadn’t been to the beach since the shipwreck.

The storm did come that night, a very loud one at that. The peal of thunder resembled the sound of exploding gunpowder making his windows tremble all night. There was lightning and he could very well imagine the rain filling up the ocean and flooding the entire kingdom like in that story with the ark. He could barely close his eyes to attempt sleeping, and Max ended up curled up against him because he was frightened of thunder,

The next morning everything outside was still as a painting, with a light breeze and not a sign of the storm other than the pleasant cloudy sky. It was almost bizarre, after the torrent that seemed to shake everything just hours before. It was a nice day, one of his favorites. He stood up from his bed and opened his curtains. Max looked up with curiosity.

“We haven’t been to the beach in so long, boy,” he said out loud, “You want to go outside, Max? Let’s go for a walk.”

As soon as Max heard the words ‘outside” and ‘walk’, he jumped from the bed and barked excitedly, immediately rushing towards him wagging his tail. Eric quickly got dressed and took his flute. He felt a certain giddiness at the thought of going to a calm walk on the beach.

The servants were already walking around the palace doing their morning work when he rushed down the stairs with Max at his heel. Some of them looked at him strangely before they appeared to shake themselves and wish him good morning. He replied to all of them with the ghost of a near smile. 

He wasn't looking where he was going when he bumped into Carlotta at the bottom of the stairs. She looked at him with concerned eyes.

“Are you going out today? Have you eaten yet?” she asked him, shifting the weight of the basket she was carrying.

“I’m just going out for a walk at the beach. I’ll be back soon,” he gave her a kiss on the cheek and attempted to walk past her.

“Eric, are you sure you are feeling alright?” her voice stopped him. Eric mused over her question. He realized he did feel a little lighter than he had felt the past few weeks after his talk with Grimsby the day before, and even if he hadn’t had barely any sleep the nice weather had put him in a good mood, or at least better than it had been in days. He figured maybe he needed to rest, at least just for that day.

He nodded, “I am feeling very well. Do not worry too much about me, Carlotta, I’m just going to take some fresh air today.”

Carlotta pursed her lips and looked at him doubtfully, but she ended up nodding as well, “Fine, just don’t go very far. I don’t want you to get caught in the rain if the storm returns.”

Eric looked out through the picture window.

“I don’t think it will, but I’ll stay close. I’ll be right back.”

Carlotta smiled at him with almost relief and went on her way to whatever she did in the mornings. Eric too headed to the palace side entrance that led to the beach.

The day felt as nice as it promised. The nice breeze blew in his face bringing the sweet aroma of the ocean, and he could even see pieces of blue sky behind some of the thinnest clouds.There was debris laying all over the sand, a sign of the storm, but other than that everything appeared peaceful and in its place. The sea looked calm and inviting. He longed to return to it once again, maybe as soon as everyone forgot he almost died the last time he sailed. Max appeared more excited than he had seen him since the shipwreck, running and jumping and barking towards the tide as if he couldn’t hold his happiness in.

Eric felt at ease for a couple of minutes, just kicking the sand and twirling his flute in his hand absentmindedly, until he realized he had unconsciously come to stand in the exact place where he had been found that morning. The place where he found and lost her in such a short time. His heart became heavy and he had a sudden urge to sit down. He didn’t feel angry like he had been the previous days, or rather weeks. He came to the realization that he felt, above all, sad and powerless.

He allowed himself to imagine, even if it was for one second, the scenario in which everyone around him was right and she had only been a product of his imagination and desperation for something to anchor him to life. What would he do then? What would he do with the overwhelming emotions in his chest? How could he forget? He ran a hand through his hair. He could not fathom it. What he had felt, what was feeling, was so real. There was no way in the world she couldn’t be real as well. No, she was out there somewhere, he only had to keep looking.

He played the same old song in his flute, an action that came as naturally to him as breathing those days. He hoped he was far enough from the palace for no one to hear him playing so melancholically. Among the things he had thought about after his talk with Grimsby, he had made a resolve to stop worrying his loved ones with his own worries and fears. His yearning and sadness were not going away, but he could at least save them from fearing that he was hopelessly pining away from love. 

The lyrics to the song were returning to him, piece by piece as if they were a hidden treasure.They lingered around his head, tantalizing him on something he couldn’t reach. Fa, Sol, La.  _ What would I do to see you smiling at me? _

_ Then why did you leave? _

He put down his flute and looked at the sea, as if he could somehow find her there. What would he do, if he never found her? What would he do with this song then? Eric could not find an answer.

Max, hearing the familiar tune, approached him curiously and tilted his head at him as if asking him what was wrong. Maybe he had made the connection between the melody and his human feeling blue. Eric squatted down and scratched Max’s head.

“I can’t get that voice out of my head,” he whispered, “I’ve looked everywhere, Max, where could she be?”

_ Nowhere, she’s nowhere. _

Eric sat down on the sand and leaned his head back, hoping to lighten his mood at least a little before he returned to the palace. He was thinking that maybe it was time for them to go inside when Max was suddenly all over him. 

“Hey, Max. What is it, boy?” He was barking and jumping, trying to draw his attention. Eric recognized it as the way he always told him to follow him. He stood up and obliged. Maybe he had found something peculiar on the beach, or maybe a sea creature had been washed up on the shore. That happened often during storms.

Max quickly outran him. Eric picked up his pace to a jog to catch up with his dog. Soon Max was so ahead of him that he couldn’t even see him behind the slab of rock protruding from the sand. He heard the dog’s barks getting more enthusiastic so he jogged towards the sound’s source.

“Max!” he called. The sheepdog came running back to him and jumped around him. Eric tried to hold him from knocking him to the ground, “Max, what’s gotten into you? What did you-” he looked up, and to his surprise, he saw a girl with fiery red hair perched delicately upon a rock. He frowned and muttered puzzled, “Oh, I see…”

Something peculiar indeed.

He walked towards her carefully so as to not startle her, but unfortunately, Max thought it was too slow. The dog ran back to her, barking and jumping to reach her on top of the rock she was sitting on. Eric rushed to her aid. Max was probably the one that had chased her to the position she was in at the moment, judging by how flustered she looked and how she kept her legs close to her body and away from the rock’s edge.

He quickly pulled Max away from her.

“Are you alright, miss?” he asked her, struggling to keep the excited dog from jumping into her. He knew Max probably didn’t intend to hurt her, but he could be a little overwhelming. He tried to smile politely, “I’m sorry if this knucklehead scared you. He’s harmless, really. I-”

His heart skipped a beat.

He met her gaze and her eyes were a startling shade of ocean blue. They were round, and pretty and familiar. So familiar it made him lose his breath. It was as if he was once again laying on the sand and that lovely voice was flowing through him like it did that day. His heart was screaming at him.

“You…” he tried to hide the fact that his voice was trembling, “You seem very familiar. Have we met before?”

She smiled, a lovely smile, and nodded enthusiastically. Eric felt his own face light up.

“We have?” she nodded again. Eric broke into a big smile and took her hands in his. They were warm and soft. “I knew it! It is you! I knew I hadn’t imagined it! What’s your name?”

She opened her mouth. A breath came out, but no sound. She closed it back, eyes wide. 

“What’s wrong? What is it? You can’t-” his face went cold when he realized, his heart dropping to his feet. Her blue eyes looked at him sadly. “You can’t speak.”

It wasn’t a question, but she shook her head slowly and dropped her gaze. Eric felt his hope being crushed.

“Oh. Then you couldn’t be who I thought. I’m sorry.” He was so foolish. Foolish, and stupid and reckless. How could he have jumped into a conclusion like that so fast? But he was so sure… so absolutely certain…

He tried to decide his next step, as well as attempting to get his face to stop burning, when she tapped his shoulder. He looked at her again. Gee, she was so pretty. 

“What is it?” she was moving her hands and arms in all directions rapidly, her facial expressions changing constantly. Eric realized she was doing pantomime. She was trying to tell him something. “You are hurt?” he guessed. She shook her head and moved her arms in a negation motion. “No, no… You need help?”

The signs she was making did not make any sense to him by themselves, let alone put all together. He tried, he really forced his brain to understand what she was trying to say because it seemed important, but he just couldn’t come to an answer. He tilted his head at her in confusion. Her movements were becoming every time stranger and more desperate. He wished he could understand.

“I’m sorry, I don’t- Careful!” he quickly leaned forward when one of her movements made her lose her balance on the rock and almost plummet towards the ground, if Eric hadn’t catched her in his arms before she did. “Woah, careful. Easy…”

Now Eric could not stop his face from blushing if his life depended on it. She was even prettier up close, with a round face, a small button nose, and those beautiful blue eyes. One of her soft hands rested in the back of his neck, and he hoped and prayed to the sky above that she couldn’t feel his heartbeat going crazy and goosebumps breaking under her feather touch. He was sure his face was as red as a tomato at that point. 

He registered the fact that she was wearing what seemed to be an old sail tied with some rope, and felt both confusion and worry sprout in his chest.

“You must have really been through something,” she looked at him with eyes that resembled those of a puppy and nodded softly. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you. Come on.”

He put his hand on her shoulder and prompted her to walk with him towards the palace. She felt unsure on her legs, which shook like those of a newborn foal. He held her tightly to keep her from falling. Her state made him worry, and wonder what had happened to this mute girl to have been left stranded on the beach without even proper clothing. He pushed it out of his mind, he could ask questions later, right then helping her was more important.

“Come on, you’ll be okay,” he told her, as gently as he could. She smiled at him with bright eyes.

Maybe she wasn’t the girl he was looking for, and yes, that bitter disappointment was still in his chest, but he couldn’t just leave her there. And besides, she seemed like a nice and lovely girl, one he wouldn’t mind getting to know better if given the chance. What damage could it do?

From behind a cloud, the sun appeared for the first time that day, making the ocean gleam under its light. For the first time in his life, Eric was convinced the ocean was not the most beautiful blue he had ever seen.


	4. IV. things your voice daren't say

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning before you start reading, this chapter is long and it was originally going to be longer. Now I can laugh, chuckle, keke, when I remember how much I wanted to fit into this chapter, cutting it in half was probably in everyone's best interests, especially mine. The following chapters are probably going to be just as long or even longer than this one, so if you don't like long chapters I'm very sorry.
> 
> I am not 100% sure about this chapter, but I will let y'all decide whether it is good or bad. Now into the actual thing.
> 
> Disclaimer: the characters and basic plot belong to its original creators

Eric thought he would have to give a big explanation as soon as he crossed the entrance. Along with talking to her with a gentle voice reassuring her of her safety, he spent his entire way to the palace rehearsing the story in which he explained why he was taking a very inappropriately dressed (though very pretty) mute girl to his home. It wasn’t a very normal sight, even he could acknowledge that, and he was ready for questions.

However, to his surprise, he got none. Strange and questioning looks, yes, from every single servant that they walked past, but no questions. He guessed that maybe his newfound fame as the crazy prince had finally brought him an advantage. After sulking around the palace for weeks and riding out like a maddened man looking for what everyone thought was an imagined girl, he doubted they would ever question anything he did again.

Grimsby was the most astonishing of them all. When they reached the main hall, Eric only had to give him a simple ‘She was stranded on the beach’ for it to be enough explanation for the usually thorough advisor. He stared at him, alright, but not like the servants did. He fixed his eyes directly on him for a couple of seconds, as if he was trying to figure out something in Eric’s face. Then, his expression changed to one of cordiality, welcoming the girl to the palace with polished hospitality. She seemed frozen in her place. Eric did not know whether she was overwhelmed or absolutely terrified, maybe even both. She was able to pry her wide eyes from the glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling when she realized that Grimsby was talking to her. She inclined her head and smiled with a blush of embarrassment. She looked absolutely adorable.

After a few mimes and a couple of thrown guesses, they were able to reach the conclusion that she had been on a shipwreck and had somehow ended up on their shore. It was reasonable enough, and her tiny nods were confirmation enough for them. A doctor was called to examine her health and a servant was quickly sent to prepare a guest room for her. Eric asked someone to look for Carlotta. There was no one he trusted more to take care of this lovely girl than the gentle but firm housekeeper.

Grimsby smiled politely at her and took one of her hands. 

“Well, my dear, I hope you enjoy your stay here and that we make it as comfortable as possible,” he said, bowing over her hand. The correct thing would’ve been for her to curtsey as a response, but she seemed rather confused and ended up just nodding enthusiastically with a smile. Grimsby, who was usually extremely strict on social etiquette, did not give signs of being fazed by it. His smile stayed on his face. “Very well then. Eric, please come with me to the studio. We are revising what we left pending yesterday before supper.”

Eric, whose eyes had been fixated on their new visitor, snapped his head when his name was called. He cleared his throat.

“Are you sure? Maybe I should stay with her until Carlotta arrives.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Carlotta’s voice broke into their conversation when she entered the main hall. She smiled at the girl sweetly, “You must be who everyone is talking about. Oh, you poor thing, you need a bath urgently and-” she examined the girl’s attire, from her knotted red hair to her sand-covered bare feet, darting her eyes towards Eric for a millisecond in an almost alarmed look, “clean clothes, I believe. Come with me, dear. She will be all ready for supper if the doctor declares her well enough to come down.”

Carlotta took her arm softly and led her up the stairs. The girl looked back at Eric, her eyebrows set in a slightly intimidated expression. Eric smiled reassuringly at her and signaled towards the stairs with a nod.

“It’ll be okay. See you at supper, miss.”

She looked unsure, but was convinced enough to smile and follow Carlotta to the second floor. Eric kept his eyes on them until they disappeared in the corridor. When he looked at Grimsby again, the old man had an unusual mischievous and knowing grin in his lips.

“Quite a lovely girl, if I do say so myself,” he said, with much more meaning than his words let know. Eric let out a huff of air and rolled his eyes.

“I know what you are thinking, and let me clarify from the start that this is not it at all. I am only trying to help her, I’m sure she will be on her way home before we know it.”

“I did not suggest anything of the sort. I am merely pointing out that she is a lovely girl. Charming, I dare say. I am sure she will be great company.”

His double meaning was once again not lost to Eric.

“Nice try, I admire your persistence, I truly do, but no. I am sure she is a great girl but it is not her, it couldn’t be. She is still out there somewhere.”

That was only a half-truth, he had definitely felt something when his eyes had met her bright ocean blue ones, something he could not explain. He could've been convinced that she was the girl he was looking for, if only she could speak. What he remembered the most, the clearest memory was that beautiful voice of hers. No matter how she made his heart jump, how beautiful and impossibly adorable she was, this mute girl could not possibly be her.

Grimsby once again looked at him with that knowing look that was starting to really irritate him. He was acting as he had already figured out something that Eric was completely oblivious to, and it was very, very annoying. 

Grimsby gave a light shrug, “You can’t truly know what will happen. Who knows? Maybe you will find out that what you are looking for is not exactly what is meant for you,” Eric was about to retort, which would most likely escalate into another argument, but Grimsby quickly silenced him by shifting the topic, “We have a busy day ahead of us. Come along, Your Highness.”

* * *

The work they had to do was as complicated and tedious as the last day, but time went by way faster than it had done before. There was this sort of giddiness nestled in his heart, a warm feeling that kept tugging at the corner of his lips. He was excited about supper. He had tried to calm the feeling down, told himself that it was just a girl that needed their help, but it was becoming harder every second.

He reached the conclusion, after a few minutes of ignoring Grimsby and musing over the situation in his head, that he was merely excited. It had been so long since the last time he met someone because he wanted to meet them. He was interested in her (though most certainly not in the way that everyone hoped him to), he wanted to know more. It wasn’t wrong, was it? Even if his heart already belonged to another, making a friend wasn’t a crime. He shouldn’t feel guilty.

If Grimsby noticed his lack of attention he did not mention it, and before Eric realized he was being dismissed from their little meeting. Eric stood up embarrassingly fast, which earned him another of Grimsby’s chuckles and knowing looks. It was seriously starting to get on his nerves. Eric cleared his throat, brought his chin up and walked out of the studio as dignified as possible. He did not need to give others the impression of something that wasn’t there.

When they reached the dining hall she wasn’t there. There was nothing weird about it, she just got there after being in a shipwreck. She had probably been offered a bath and Carlotta was most definitely looking for something for her to wear (he vaguely remembered saying an absent minded ‘yes’ when someone asked him if they could borrow one of the Queen’s old dresses). Not to mention, the fact that the doctor was going to see her for any injuries or sickness. He had been a mess after his own shipwreck, maybe she was not coming down at all. It would’ve been perfectly reasonable and enough to convince him of not waiting for her, but still, he looked to the entrance every couple of seconds. 

“Eric?” Grimsby called him. Eric turned to look at him, hoping his eyes did not betray his expectation. “Shall we start or do you prefer waiting for our guest?”

Maybe she was not even coming down at all.

“Let’s wait a little longer, it would be rude not to. I am not very hungry anyway.”

That was a lie. He was actually starving. He had skipped breakfast completely, and his stomach had been grumbling since his walk on the beach, but regardless, he waited. He tapped his fingers on the table until Grimsby told him to stop, he looked out the window, he fiddled with his cutlery and hummed under his breath.

“So, Eric,” Grimsby broke the silence between them, “Did you go out today?”

He nodded while repeatedly folding a corner of his napkin. “I went out for a walk close to the palace, that’s where I found the girl.”

“Of course, but I meant if you don’t intend to do a search today.”

Oh, that. He raised his eyes and met Grimsby’s trying to find a hidden intention in his question. They had made peace, or at least something close to it, the night before, but it was a bit disconcerting to see Grimsby act so nonchalant about the situation. 

“Well,” he started with a slight frown, “maybe not today, but I am sure by tomorrow the weather must’ve settled and I’ll be able to go out again.”

He still didn’t get a reaction he expected from Grimsby, the man only took out his pipe and his tobacco pouch.

“Oh,” he said, “I thought that, because of our new guest, you might want to stay home more often. I guess I was wrong.”

That knowing look again. So this was what it was all about. Eric dropped his chin on his hand with a roll of his eyes. 

“That changes nothing. We are only helping her reach for a family member and then she’ll be on her way. I am sure constant vigilance will not be necessary.”

“As you wish, Eric,” he relented. Those were still not the reactions Eric would have expected, and he almost felt like Grimsby was hiding something from him. He was about to say something about it when his advisor continued his speech. “Although, if I may say so, I do wonder what kind of young lady would just go around saving people in the middle of the ocean and then flutter off into oblivion.”

Eric had to give him some credit, at least he wasn’t being aggressively dismissive of it. He still felt slightly miffed by his words.

“Are you going to start again? I told you, she was real. I will find her and when I marry her I will-”

“Oh, there you are, my dear!”

Grimsby’s expression immediately made Eric forget what he was going to say, his eyes quickly darting towards the entrance. Two figures, one he could recognize as Carlotta and a smaller one surrounded by a full skirt, were hidden in the shadows right outside the dining hall. Eric could hear Carlotta’s encouraging voice.

“Come on, dear, don’t be shy. You look very pretty.”

She walked in. Eric’s heart stopped.

“Oh, Eric. Isn’t she a vision?” he heard Grimsby tell him, though he couldn’t bring himself to respond. His mouth had suddenly gone completely dry, his tongue heavy and awkward as if it didn’t belong in his mouth.

A vision? He wasn’t sure that was the correct expression. She looked like a daydream, like morning heavenly light. She was out of her makeshift clothes and her red hair had been brushed and pinned to be kept out of her face, and he was sure they must have put something in her face because she was almost glowing under the sunlight entering through the window. And the dress, he recognized it. It was certainly an old dress of his mother’s, maybe from ten years earlier when she was skinnier than she was at the present, which also meant that it was probably of outdated fashion (though why they would ever go out of fashion if they could make a girl so so stunningly beautiful, he did not know). The dress was made of a sturdy pink material that flowed delicately over a full skirt. He remembered once his mother telling his cousin Hedvig that redheads did not look good in pink, but he could not see why. She looked beautiful and radiant.

She did not look like a princess or a noble lady. Her hair was down reaching her waist, something a princess would never have done, and her face held a certain air of innocence and pure genuine happiness that he never found in all those other girls he met. And maybe, it had to be, that was the reason Eric could not stop his heart from accelerating at the mere sight of her walking towards him. There was so much emotion in her face, her eyes, than he had ever seen in anyone. He wanted to look into them for hours and fish out every single one of the secrets they kept.

He was barely able to choke out words.

“You look-” like the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, like an angel and a star at the same time. Her eyes looked at him expectantly. He swallowed heavily. He could not tell her all that. “You look wonderful.”

It was a pathetic escape, and he knew it wasn’t enough, but she didn’t seem to mind. A lovely blush crept up her cheeks and a shy smile graced her face.

“Do sit down, my dear, you must be famished,” Grimsby exclaimed cheerily, guiding her by the arms to sit on one of the chairs. “It is not often that we have such a lovely guest, eh Eric?”

Eric rushed to push the chair in for her as the gentleman he was raised to be, then he sat down on his own chair. He set his chin on his hands and saw her take on her environment with bright eyes. He opened his mouth to inquire if she was feeling better and if her room was to her liking when she suddenly took her fork and started brushing her hair with it. 

His mouth immediately closed and he raised one eyebrow, taken back. He dared not say anything out of politeness, though her act was so strange he wasn’t sure what to say anyway. Grimsby was in a similar state, and he was doing a very awful job at hiding his confusion and shock. The girl must have noticed their dumbfounded expressions because her smile fell and she put the fork back in the table, dropping a blushing face in embarrassment.

Eric felt slightly guilty, here they were already making their guest uncomfortable in less than five minutes. He thought of something to tell her to calm her dismay, ( _ ‘I comb my hair with my eating utensils all the time’ _ ? What could he possibly say?). Maybe if he parted his hair with a spoon she wouldn’t feel as embarrassed, and she would smile again. Before he could test his idea her face brightened once again. Her eyes were on Grimsby, more precisely on the pipe in his hands. Grimsby noticed her watching and turned to her.

“Oh, do you like it?” he offered the pipe to her. She took it in her hands with excitement once again and brought it to her lips, “It’s rather fine-”

The girl blew on the pipe and the next second Grimsby’s face was covered in tobacco ash, his eyes tightly closed and his lips pursed. Eric let out a snort and had to clasp his mouth with his hand to suppress a giggle from coming out. He hadn’t seen Grimsby so hilariously miffed since he was a child, he looked like he was deciding between scolding someone and screaming his head off.

Grimsby turned to look at him with an annoyed look. Eric straightened his back and cleared his throat, trying his best to keep an amused smile from appearing in his lips.

“So sorry, Grim,” he said as seriously as he could. Next to him, the girl looked appalled again, her entire face now as red as her hair. She shrunk into herself as if waiting for someone to scream at her. Eric felt guilt nibbling at his chest again. He tried to completely be rid of the mirth on his face, and find something to say to her. In the midst of his mildly panicked thoughts, he heard Carlotta gasp with surprise.

“My, Eric!” she exclaimed with a hand over her heart, “That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile in weeks!”

Was that true? Carlotta had to be exaggerating. Though it was true that he hadn’t had many reasons to smile or laugh like he usually would in the past few weeks. He wondered where that heavy boulder he had felt in his chest since he was found on the shore had gone. Either way, Eric didn’t have much time to think about it because his mind was soon flooded with relief when he saw how the girl’s face had completely lightened at Carlotta’s words. Eric’s heart warmed and melted in a second. He dedicated her a smile, just to stoke the fire of her joy. It came so easily to him. She looked down with a pretty smile of her own.

He couldn’t stop looking at her. Even if he had tried he wouldn’t have been able to pry his eyes from her face, and he really didn’t want to try. He heard Grimsby asked Carlotta about their food, but Eric did not care enough to hear the answer. He wasn’t sure whether he was expecting her to do something surprising again or if he was simply mesmerized by the way her eyes sparkled in the afternoon sun. Except for the couple of times that their eyes met, all in which she immediately looked somewhere else avoiding his gaze, she wasn’t really looking at him. She looked around her, at everything she could put her eyes on. Her face held so much wonder as if she was discovering the world for the first time, and Eric was sure he could keep staring at her for that reason alone. 

He was sure Grimsby was talking to him, though he did not turn and certainly didn’t listen. She was pretty, so, so pretty, the kind of pretty that made his heart flutter every time his eyes danced over her soft features. And her hair was so red, he had never seen such a fiery shade of red hair. Most of his mother’s side of the family were gingers, but their hair was more orange than red. Her hair was as red as a strawberry, and it looked so soft…

Her eyes met his and this time she didn’t look away. The thought that maybe he should feel embarrassed about getting caught blatantly staring at someone crossed his mind, but he did not feel an ounce of shame. He smiled at her, a smile that was definitely less smooth and much dopier than he had intended. He was sure he looked like a fool, but at least she seemed to be amused. 

She pressed her lips and what he assumed was an attempt to hide her own amusement and turned her eyes back and forth from Eric to something to his right. He gave her a silent questioning look with a tilt of his head. She responded with a slight nod towards whatever she was looking at. Eric realized she meant Grimsby, the person who was still talking to him and whom he had been ignoring for the past ten minutes. He reluctantly gave him part of his attention and only caught the last few words of his sentence.

“...thing in the way of a tour?”

Eric finally took his gaze away from the girl and looked at Grimsby instead. Definitely a less pleasant sight.

“I’m sorry, Grim, what was that?”

Grimsby looked at him sternly and slightly annoyed.

“You can’t spend your time moping about, Eric. You have to get out. Do something, have a life.” Oh, so he meant him, Grimsby wanted  _ him _ to give her a tour. He wasn’t completely against it. “Get your mind off-”

“Easy, Grim, easy,” he interrupted him before he could say something he preferred not to be said out loud at the moment, “It’s not a bad idea, if she’s interested, of course. So, what do you say?” he looked at her again. She was leaning casually over her plate’s cover, intent on their conversation. He leaned over the table, trying to appear nonchalant and relaxed even if he himself was excited over the idea. “Would you like to join me on a tour of my kingdom tomorrow?”

His heart gave a leap when she nodded vigorously. He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face at the sight of her excitement.

“It is set. Let us eat, then,” he lifted his plate cover and immediately dug in. He was so hungry he didn’t even take time to laugh when they found no main dish in Grimsby’s plate, only the side salad. Stuffed crab was one of his favorite dishes, especially when prepared by his cook Louis, and his hunger made it taste a hundred times better. He was halfway through his plate when he noticed that their guest was not eating. She had a fork in her hand, but was only pushing the food around.

“Is something wrong, miss?” he asked her with a frown. She raised her head towards him at his voice. She shook her head, “No? Why are you not eating? Is the food not to your liking?” She pointed at the stuffed crab on her plate and scrunched her nose. He chuckled. “You don’t like seafood?” She looked nauseous at the mere mention of it, so Eric took it as a no. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll be able to find something you like in the kitchen.” She opened her mouth and immediately waved her hands in front of her shaking her head. She took her fork and brought a piece of lettuce towards her mouth chewing on it contently. Eric let out a small laugh again, “Nice try, miss, but I will not have my guest eating only lettuce for supper. I will have someone take you to the kitchen later.”

He dug some stuffing from the crab on his plate and brought it to his mouth. Her eyes stayed on him as he chewed and her face started taking a green tint. She must really hate seafood. She looked down on her plate and pushed it lightly towards him. 

Eric wiped the corner of his mouth with the napkin and tried to keep his voice from showing how adorable he found her, “Miss, it wouldn’t be proper to take food from your plate, but thank you, I really appreciate it,” a mischievous smile appeared in his lips, “If anything you should offer it to Grimsby over there, poor fellow must feel really bad about missing on the crab today.”

Grimsby had refused to get another plate and was now just sitting with a straight and stiff posture, an irritated expression in his face. He raised his nose.

“You are very funny, Eric. You should just give up your title and become a comic,” he retorted with sarcasm. Eric’s smile did not fall.

“Maybe I should. I would make a fortune, I am sure,” he joked and gave the amused girl to his left a wink. He delighted in the way her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink. She dropped her gaze and went back to nibbling at her lettuce.

* * *

He had to be dragged out of the table. Even when their plates were empty, (hers still with an untouched stuffed crab, but the entire salad was gone) they remained on the table for longer than probably everyone around him wanted them to. Grimsby wanted to take him back to work at once and the servants wanted to clean the table already. Still, Eric did not move. He was having so much fun. What started as an attempt to hold a conversation with her soon became a guessing game between the two of them. They were simple words that she tried to mimic for him, words like ‘dolphin’, ‘ship’, ‘seagull’. She was good at pantomime, and he turned out to be a pretty good guesser. 

It was when he was recovering from a laughing fit caused by the way she had puckered her lips and moved her hands around her face to mimic ‘fish’ when Grimsby finally interrupted their little game, stating once again that they still had work to do. Eric wanted to protest, he was really enjoying his time with her and he hadn’t even gotten around to asking her the important questions he had to ask her, but Grimsby, being the stubborn man he was, kept insisting. Something about ‘letting their guest rest’ and ‘not overwhelming her’. Eric thought it was ridiculous, she looked well enough for him and couldn’t see why he couldn’t spend more time with her.

In the end, he relented albeit reluctantly. He stood up with a resigning sigh and inclined his head towards the girl.

“I suppose I will see you later, miss,” he said. She gave him somewhat of a sad smile, “I truly hope you enjoy your stay here, and if you need anything just tell-” he stopped himself before he could continue the stupid thing he was about to say. Of course she couldn’t _tell_ anyone, she was mute. His embarrassment only grew when she seemed to catch up on it, raising an eyebrow at him in an amused way. Eric quickly blurted the first thing that came to his mind, “I mean, you don’t- just go to… Just, find me, alright? I’ll do my best to help you.”

She nodded, although he could tell she was trying not to laugh at the blundering mess that was in front of her. He wondered how her laugh would sound, if she could speak.

He inclined his head again, feeling his cheeks burn, and was then rushed out of the dining hall by Grimsby. He made sure, before being pulled towards the studio, to instruct a servant to show their guest well where her room was and to let her go whatever she pleased. After that, he was stuck with Grimsby once again for hours on end. Some of the things they talked about were able to catch his attention, the ones that sounded important and in need of immediate response, but some of them had his mind immediately flying out the window. They somehow ended up talking about ribbons again ( _ Why were those ribbons so damn important in the first place? _ ) and the numbers and numbers and more numbers that Grimsby kept repeating spun in his head like a tornado. 

When he was finally released from hell, the afternoon was well set, the sun was close to setting and he was ready to jump into bed. His eyes felt droppy and his neck stiff. He massaged his shoulder with his hand and stretched his back. He was starting to understand why adults were always so keen on sleeping early. Right before he could call it a day and go to his room, he remembered something that he had wanted to do. Concluding that he could just go rest after he did that small thing, he asked the first servant he saw for his housekeeper. 

A few minutes later he found her instructing younger maids on how to properly polish the silver. Those girls, who must not have been older than sixteen, dropped into a clumsy curtsey as soon as they saw him, their faces red as a tomato. Carlotta quietly chided the flustered young girls.

“Now don’t be foolish, girls, a simple ‘Your Highness’ as a greeting and an inclination will be quite enough.”

“Yes, Miss Carlotta,” they both answered with low heads. Eric let out a low chuckle.

“Don’t be so harsh, I think they are charming,” he said, giving them a smile. The girls turned a brighter shade of red, if that was even possible. Carlotta put her hands on her hips.

“Eric, do not encourage them, please. Now, did you need anything? Why are you down here?”

“I needed to ask you about something, do you mind stepping outside?”

“Of course,” Carlotta dropped the rag she was carrying into the table and wiped her hands on her apron, then she said to the maids, “Keep working on this, I will be back to review your work shortly.”

“Goodbye, girls! Keep up the good work!” Eric exclaimed cheekily, before exiting the room with Carlotta. He heard a couple of high-pitched ‘Yes, Your Highness!’ accompanied by some juvenile giggles. Eric’s face turned to one of discomfort when Carlotta pinched his arm with a sharp twist. He exclaimed in pain.

“What have I told you about flustering the maids?” she reprimanded, wagging a finger at his face. Eric rubbed the sore spot in his arm.

“I am not flustering, I am encouraging them,” he retorted childishly. Carlotta rolled her eyes. 

“Oh, boy what am I to do with you,” she sighed with exasperation. “What was it that you wanted to tell me, anyway? Is something wrong?”

Eric shook his head, “Nothing wrong. I just wanted to ask about what the doctor had said about the girl. I suppose he found nothing severe since she went down to eat, but what was the diagnosis?”

“Well, he found nothing to worry about physically, maybe some bruise here and there but nothing serious. However she did seem a bit confused during the examination, as if she was distracted or forgetting simple things, so the doctor thinks that maybe she bumped her head during the shipwreck and she’s a bit,” she moved her head in tiny circles, “you know. But we are sure she will be fine.”

“Yes, I know what you mean,” Eric muttered thinking on the back to the way she had used a fork to brush her hair. He clicked his tongue and lowered his voice, “Poor thing, she must have been through a lot.”

“It’s a good thing that you found her, who knows what might have happened to her out there by herself dressed in a tied sail,” Carlotta shook her head, as if she still couldn’t believe it.

Eric snorted lightly, “She still looked pretty, though.”

Carlotta slapped his arm with wide eyes, “Eric!”

“What? I mean it. I think sails should definitely go into fashion.” After a few seconds of quiet laughter, his expression turned pensive again, “I wonder if anyone was in that ship with her. Her family maybe? We would’ve known if a merchant ship had sunk nearby, so that can’t be. What if she has no one to reach out to?”

“You should ask her, that is the only way you’ll know,” said Carlotta.

“I have thought about it, but talking to her is not exactly the easiest thing to do.”

“I heard from other servants that you are good at communicating with her.”

“No, that was just a silly game. I am sure a conversation will be more complicated.”

“Well,” Carlotta said to him gently, patting his shoulder, “Why don’t you try? You might be surprised. She trusts you, Eric, probably more than anyone here. I’m sure you two will find a way.”

“I suppose,” he murmured under his breath, a tiny content smiled dancing at his lips, “Where is she now, by the way?” 

“We led her to her room after supper, we told her she could wander around if she wanted to. So she must be somewhere around the palace.”

“I’ll have to look for her then. Thank you, Carlotta.”

“Anytime, dear, now run along,” Carlotta patted his cheek with a motherly touch as she always did, and then went back into the room to possibly scold some girls about their silver polishing skills. Eric shook his head, amused, and walked down the hall towards one of the main halls. 

Finding her wasn’t too complicated, especially considering that he pretty much had eyes everywhere in the palace he could question about her whereabouts, and also considering how those eyes were most likely to be paying attention to her since she was the new and interesting arrival. He found her quickly after inquiring for a couple of minutes. She was standing in one of the corridors, staring intently at something in the wall. She was probably looking at a portrait, since the walls of that corridor were covered in them. He approached her, not bothering to be quiet, as to let her know he was there and not startle her. Her eyes turned to him when she realized she was not alone.

“I was wondering where you were, miss,” Eric greeted cheerily, walking forward until he was standing next to her. She smiled at him and raised her eyebrows, “It’s nothing, just wanted to make sure you were enjoying your stay so far,” she quickly nodded, “Are you sure? Is there nothing specific you need?” At that she seemed at thought for a few seconds, but then shook her head, “Alright, I will take your word for it, but if you ever need anything, we are here to serve you.”

The hospitable prince, his mother would be proud if she could see him. The girl nodded again at his words and dedicated him one of her sweet smiles, which made warmth spread all over Eric’s chest. Then, she looked at the painting she had been staring at and looked back at him, tilting her head in question. Eric looked at the painting briefly and immediately recognized it. He looked away from it.

“That’s my father,” he told her, unconsciously lowering his voice. She looked at him curiously. “I believe this portrait is from when he was crowned king. He was a few years older than me then, he hadn’t even married my mother.”

It was no wonder that that particular painting had caught her eye. He had always been told that he looked very much like his father, but nowhere was it more visible than in that portrait. They had the same black hair, the same angular chin, the same nose and thick dark eyebrows. It was like looking at a painting of himself with a few mistakes. His father’s face was slightly wider, his mouth smaller and the eyes, the eyes were the biggest difference. His father’s eyes were dark and sharp, Eric remembered them very well, they were always void of any emotion or sign of vulnerability. Eric had his mother’s eyes, blue and soft, melancholic some people said, one could almost read his emotions by just looking into them. It wasn’t something Eric exactly adored of them.

“I wonder if someone has ever tripped on that cape,” he found himself saying out loud, looking at the coronation gear from the painting, “I mean it must be hard to walk with it, and the aisle of the chapel is a long one.”

The girl next to him shrugged lightly, Eric took it as a  _ ‘Maybe’ _ . She patted her head with her hands.

“Ah, yes, that crown must be very heavy too. Very impractical if you ask me.” Her shoulders shook in what Eric assumed was her silent laughter. She stared at the painting for a few seconds, and then ran a delicate finger along the frame. The portraits of the royal family were usually forbidden to touch but Eric let her, mainly because she looked so intrigued by the intricate carved pattern and because he could not bring himself to tell her not to do something. She softly caressed the carved sea waves, the tiny ships and the anchor in the corner of the frame.

“The sea is very important to our kingdom,” he told her, noting her interest, “It’s sort of a symbol. We depend on it as much as we depend on the crops we plant. Or at least that is what my father used to tell me, though I do remember he hated going to the beach and sailing. I guess I never really understood that man,” he chuckled under his breath, rather bitterly. He quickly brought himself together, reminding himself that the last thing she needed was listening to his emotional grudges. 

She was looking at him again directly, her blue eyes boring into him. She did not have a penetrative look, it did not make him feel uncomfortable but it did make him wonder what was going through her head. What was she thinking about? What did she think about him? He internally sighed at all the things he would most likely never know.

To alleviate the silence between them, he walked towards the wall and stood with his back against it right next to his father’s painting. He imitated the king’s serious expression, “Do you think I look like him?”

She looked back and forth between him and the painting, and in a second she shook her head ‘no’. Eric’s smile dropped and was replaced by a frown of confusion, “You don’t think so? Huh, you would be the first, miss. Why, if I may ask?” She looked back and forth again, then pointed at her right eye. “Ah. Yes, I suppose our eyes are different. I have my mother’s eyes, you know,” he responded, but she looked frustrated as if he hadn’t understood what she was trying to say. She shook her head with a frown. “No? I don’t think I follow. What exactly do you-”

He stopped talking when he heard a low and muted sound. The corridor was so empty and quiet that he clearly recognized it as a stomach grumbling. He was a little hungry but it definitely hadn’t come from him. He looked at her well, and her pink cheeks confirmed that his lovely guest was the source of it.

“Are you hungry, miss?” he asked her. She hesitated for a second before nodding, “I didn’t even ask you, did you find something of your liking in the kit-” he stopped. She looked sideways in an awkward manner. His eyes widened when he realized.

Oh, Lord, he had completely forgotten. So much for the hospitable prince. He inwardly slapped his own face.

“You didn’t go to the kitchen, did you?” he asked, as if he needed confirmation. She shook her head after a second. He quickly apologised, “I am so sorry. Oh, you must be starving. I’ll take you there myself right now. I’m sure we’ll find something.”

She moved her hands in crossing motions, ‘ _ You don’t have to _ ’ he could almost read in her expressions. “It won’t be a problem. I want to go and find something to eat myself anyway, and I would appreciate some company. Just humor me, alright?” 

He gave her a smile, the dimpled one he gave to the maids when he wanted extra dessert as a boy, one he hoped she couldn’t resist. He didn’t know if it was the smile, but she accepted with a nod. He considered offering her his arm, but he figured that it may make her feel uncomfortable, so he took a couple of steps and waited for her to follow. He was startled, however, when he felt her hand grab lightly at the fabric of his sleeve. He was absolutely mortified by the way that the simple gesture caused a hitch in his breath and made his heart beat like a thundering drum. What was wrong with him? He swallowed the lump in his throat heavily and forced out a relaxed smile.

“Right this way, miss,” he choked out, though he was glad that he didn’t sound half as affected as he was. He walked down the corridor, the girl following him and keeping up with his pace through the soft grip she had on his sleeve. Eric took the long way.

* * *

“I used to sneak here all the time,” Eric said as he looked through a cupboard, “Carlotta used to make these delicious Italian pastries, and I would steal some of them from the kitchen as soon as they were out of the oven. Of course my stomach was not very happy about it.”

The girl next to him shook her shoulders in laughter as she looked over what he was doing with interest. They both kneeled in the tiled floor while Eric rummaged through one of the lower compartments where he knew sometimes food was kept. The girl’s wide pink skirt was all around them and her breath brushed past his cheek as she looked over his shoulder inside the cupboard. Eric hoped no one walked in on them at the moment, he didn’t feel like explaining why he was not moving away or asking her to step back.

The kitchen was surprisingly clean with only a few signs of the ruckus he heard had happened in the kitchen earlier. He hadn’t really bothered to ask what exactly had occurred, Louis had always been a man more on the eccentric side so not much that he did surprised him, (the time he threw a fit because one of the kitchen maid did not cook a fish meal exactly as he had instructed was deep etched on his mind, though despite it all he did appreciate his French cook). The only piece of information he had was Carlotta hilariously scolding the cook like a child, and that is all Eric wanted to know.

“Well,” he said out loud when looking through his second cupboard, “we have bread, lots of it actually, and I have never met a person in my life who doesn’t like bread. Darling, can you pass me that platter over there?” the skirt around him shuffled as she stood up and reached for what he had asked for, She handed the platter to him. “Thank you, miss.”

He placed three medium sized loaves of bread in the platter, took a knife and then set it on the floor between them. By how hungry she sounded, she was expecting her to jump at the bread but even after he cut a couple of slices she did not reach towards it. She just looked at it, a slightly confused expression on her face.

Eric’s confidence faltered, “You do like bread, don’t you?”

She looked up at him and tilted her head, questioning, then shrugged her shoulders.

“You…” Eric trailed off, trying to comprehend the situation, “You have never tried bread before?”

The girl shook her head, smiling excitedly, like a child discovering something new. She did not show a sign of embarrassment or a bit of shame, almost as if she had no idea how uncommon it was to have never tried bread. Eric was definitely confused, even the poorest of people could afford a loaf of bread, and it was one of the most common accompaniments, not only in Vedhavet. He was sure bread was a pretty universal thing so he couldn’t imagine where this girl could’ve come from.

_ The doctor thinks that maybe she bumped her head during the shipwreck and she’s a bit…  _ he remembered Carlotta’s words. That was the only reasonable explanation he could come to, and it made sense, so he didn’t question. He did not pressure her to answer his questions just yet and instead curled his lips into a smile.

“Well, there is always a first for everything,” he exclaimed cheerily and nudged the platter towards her. She tentatively took a slice between her fingers and brought it to her nose. She seemed to like the aroma. “It’s rosemary sea salt bread. Very popular around here, and one of my favorites. You can put anything on it and it will be delicious,” he took a slice of bread himself and bit into it, “Come on, try it.”

She took a bite, chewed a couple of times and then her face brightened. She immediately took another bite, then another. 

Eric couldn’t help but laugh at her glee, a sound that was embarrassingly close to a giggle. He didn’t find it funny, but the way that such a simple thing could make her so happy was endearing to him. Her joy was contagious.

“Like it, huh?” he leaned in, resting his chin on his hand. She nodded with a mouth full of bread. “And it can be even better. We can put ham, and cheese or some olive oil, maybe even some-”

“Ah, Your Highness, I didn’t know you were here!” a voice made Eric jump and straighten his back, creating a respectable distance between the girl and himself. One of the kitchen maids, a plump older woman Eric recognized as Ofelia, had stopped midway through her way into the kitchen, her eyes wide open in surprise and going back and forth between the two teenagers on the tilted floor. 

Eric cleared his throat and wiped his hands on his trousers, “We are just looking for an appetizer, I was trying to find something of our guest’s liking.”

“Oh,” Ofelia said, though she didn’t look very convinced, “Would you like me to prepare something for you two, Prince Eric?”

“No, that won’t be necessary, Ofelia, but thank you. You can retire for the day.” Eric gave a polite, though a bit awkward, smile. He hated the feeling of his cheeks going warm and his palms sweating. He wasn’t doing anything wrong, he had no reason to be nervous.

Ofelia seemed as uncomfortable as he felt. She looked at the girl, who was still munching on her slice of bread unbeknownst to the tense air around them, for a few long seconds and then looked away with an almost scandalized look in her face, “Yes, sire. Have a good night then.”

She dropped in a curtsey and walked towards the door.

“Wait, Ofelia,” Eric stopped her before she could walk out. The maid turned to him again.

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“Do you know if we have received strawberries yet? I think at least the first harvest must have happened by now.”

Ofelia thought for a second, “We must have a box of punnets in the cellar. Should I bring it up for you, sire?”

“No, I’ll go,” Eric stood up from his place, “You can go now. Thank you, Ofelia.”

Ofelia exited the kitchen this time, leaving them by themselves once again. The girl looked up at him in question, biting into her second slice of bread. She picked up her skirt with one hand to stand up, “Oh, no, it’s fine. You can stay there, I will be back shortly.”

Eric did find the punnets of strawberries in the cellar, big, bright and appetizing strawberries. He cut them up in slices like he always did for himself and arranged them on a platter. He walked around the kitchen looking for other things they could accompany the bread with, with her big blue eyes following as he looked through the cupboards. He cut some thin slices of ham, some gouda cheese, lettuce and tomatoes. He also found a creamy cheese that was most likely made that morning for breakfast as well as the mint leaves for tea.

He sat in front of her again, setting the new platter next to the one with the bread. The girl examined the new food in front of her.

“You are going to love this even more,” he whispered with a jokingly enigmatic tone. He took a slice of bread and topped it with ham, cheese and a leaf of lettuce. He handed it to her. “This is what I always do when I come in here. It is easy to do and tastes good. Try it,” he encouraged.

She brought it to her nose first and took in its aroma. She scrunched her nose a bit, maybe at the smell of the cheese, but took a little bite anyway. She didn’t seem to adore it, but she kept biting into it with not much of her joyful enthusiasm and nodded at him. Eric understood the message,  _ ‘Good, but nothing out of this world _ ’. He took it as a challenge.

“Trust me, this bread is so much better with strawberries,” he took another slice of bread and started spreading the creamy cheese he had found, “Some people think the sweet strawberries don’t go well with the salty bread, but I disagree. I think they mix really-” he stopped when he saw her frowning at him. Eric tried to guess again, “You… don’t like strawberries?”

She shook her head, then shrugged her shoulders. She was looking at him with curiosity, the same she had about the bread. Another one of her memory gaps, maybe.

“Oh,” he tried to hide his confusion once more with a polite smile, “You have never tried them?” She shook her head, her eyes bright once again. That alone made Eric’s grin grow wider with more sincerity, and with a chuckle he signaled for her to try the strawberries first. He was stupidly pleased when she appeared to absolutely love the fruit. She took one after another until Eric had to bring out more to eat with the bread. She seemed especially interested by their bright color and hundreds of tiny little seeds, by the way she would look at each piece carefully before popping it into her mouth, which curled contentedly at the taste.

Eric felt it as almost a victory, one he was childishly proud of. He brought a strawberry to his own mouth, not being able to keep a foolish smile from his face.

Eric never thought he could fill himself with only bread, but surprisingly he did. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed in the kitchen, but he did know that they almost finished the stored bread between the two, slice by slice. She was soon topping her own slices of bread, trying out different combinations, (he once had to stop her from putting a strawberry on top of a piece of ham, and had to swear up and down that it wouldn’t taste good because, he found out, she was quite a determined girl). Although she tried everything, she did show a preference for the strawberries and tomatoes, so Eric silently left them for her, sticking to the ham and cheese himself.

It was- pleasant. Pleasant and comfortable. Even if he couldn’t communicate well with her at times, he enjoyed every second of the small talk he tried engaging her with. It was amidst the simple questions and adorable answers that he finally remembered why he had looked for her in the first place, and why he had stopped for a piece of paper and a pen on their way to the kitchen. He had become so distracted he completely forgot.

He noticed she was no longer eating and was just picking out a strawberry every once in a while. He took a deep breath and reached for the paper he had left forgotten in the corner. The girl followed his movements with a tilted head. Eric made sure the pen was full of ink and placed them in front of her.

“I would like to ask you a couple of questions,” he announced. He saw the girl grabbing the pen and examining it carefully, “I didn’t know if you would feel more comfortable writing the answers down rather than having to sign everything. I know for sure some of these answers may not be possible to mime.”

She appeared to think it over for a few seconds, then nodded slowly and brought the piece of paper closer to her. She made a small gesture with her head towards him, and Eric took it as a cue.

“Very well then,” he smiled encouragingly, lowering his voice to a gentle whisper. “They will be easy questions, and you don’t have to answer if you do not want to. This is only so we can figure out how to help you. Alright?” She nodded, “Okay. My first question is, where are you from? What kingdom or town?”

She hesitated and frowned in what appeared to be deep concentration. He had expected that, so he was not surprised when she couldn’t answer such questions. The girl didn’t even remember what bread was after all.

“Are you from Vedhavet?” he aided, hoping it would trigger some memory in her mind. She shook her head ‘no’, but it seemed to help because she pressed the pen to the paper and wrote one word in pretty penmanship,  _ ‘Marenth’. _

“Marenth,” he said out loud. It made sense. The kingdom of Marenth was close to Vedhavet, they spoke the same language and the port of his kingdom often received their ships. It was a reasonable enough answer, “I hear it is very pretty in spring,” she nodded, but kept her head down. Eric decided to not pry and move on. “I was also wondering whether you were on a merchant ship or were you travelling somewhere when the shipwreck happened. Do you remember that?”

She thought again and frowned as if she were looking deep into her mind for an answer, but she only shook her head as an answer. “‘No’ you don’t remember?” he inquired, and she answered with a nod. “Oh,” Eric’s spirits fell a bit, but at least they were making some progress, even if her memory gaps already were proving to be an obstacle. “That is alright, we can figure it out later. Let’s just continue, do you remember what caused the shipwreck?” she shook her head, “The name of anyone at the crew?” another no, “Was it a barque, a brig?” she seemed even confused at that question. Eric chuckled to himself, “That was a dumb question, just forget I said that.”

His small smile dropped when he saw her cross her arms and look away, catching a glimpse of her reddening cheeks. He mentally called himself an idiot repeatedly as he rushed to apologize.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I know you are trying your best, I’m sorry,” her shoulders fell from their stiff position but she kept her eyes away from him, “Miss?” he called her, but she still didn’t look his way. His arm reached without his permission and was about to gently turn her head towards him, just so she would look at him again. He stopped himself just in time and curled his fingers back into his palm and away from her chin, his heart beating in his chest with embarrassment. What even was that? What was he about to do? He hoped his embarrassment wasn’t evident on his face.

However, it did make her look. She turned her head and stared curiously at his hand still frozen in the air between them. She raised an eyebrow at him. He quickly brought his arm to himself, clenching his fists as if commanding them to not act on their own accord again. He laughed, more nervously than he had intended, and tried to calm his features.

“Do you forgive me, then?” he asked in a, hopefully, relaxed tone. She rolled her eyes, but a small smile played at her lips. Eric took it as a ‘yes’. “Why don’t we change the subject? Let me just ask about something else and we are done, I promise.”

She nodded and picked up the pen again.

“Now I want to ask if someone was travelling with you, or were you alone? It’s alright if you don’t remember, answer what you can,” he quickly added and waited for her answer. She hesitated, the pen hovering over the paper. He felt her discomfort at the question and considered changing the subject again but before he could, the tip of the pen started scratching the paper. She wrote one word right below Marenth,  _ ‘Alone’ _ .

“You were by yourself?” he questioned with a frown. It was somewhat unusual; not many people sailed alone, especially not the ones her age. “What about your family? Is there someone waiting for you back home in Marenth?”

This time, she didn’t answer. Not a mime, or any sign that she would write something down. Instead, she discarded the pen and took one of the leftover pieces of bread, piling strawberries on top of it. Eric tilted his head at her, trying to catch her eyes.

“Miss?” she raised her head and met his gaze. There was something about the way her eyebrows were set and her eyes swam in emotion that tugged at his heartstrings. She looked sad, something had made her sad. He asked carefully, “Do you have a family back home?” 

She nodded decisively but turned unsure for a few seconds, biting at the corner of her lip. “Yes, but?” he understood her gestures as. After a few moments of silence between them, she put down her slice of bread and took the pen again. This time she wrote a sentence, a rather severe one.  _ ‘They are not waiting for me.’  _

“Oh,” he breathed out, at a loss of words. His already heavy heart became a boulder in his chest. He let out a deep sigh, “That’s unfortunate.”

He couldn’t find words to tell her. What could he even say? He didn’t understand to begin with. What could’ve possibly caused a rupture with such a lovely girl? Who would leave a mute, young girl alone in the world to fend for herself? It didn’t make sense to him, but when he looked at her he knew she was telling the truth. Not only was his gut telling him to trust her, but he could feel that whatever had happened between her and her family, it was causing her genuine sadness. There was no way it wasn’t honest.

(It also crossed his mind for a split second that the situation meant that she most likely had no one to reach out or somewhere to go, but that was the least of his concerns, he did not entertain the idea very much.)

She fiddled with the frill in her skirt with downcast eyes and Eric remained silent. He wasn’t sure how to fill the silence between them and he looked desperately for something to tell her. The sudden quiet was killing him. How could he make her feel better? How could he manage to lighten the mood without being insensitive?

“You know, miss,” he started out in a low voice. She looked at him with those beautiful wide eyes. “You can stay in Vedhavet as long as you need to. We will be happy to help you. Think of this as your home until you know where you want to go next.” He knew it wasn’t much and it most likely wasn’t nearly enough to compensate for whatever she had lost, but it made her smile again and that was enough for him. He smiled back at her, “We should probably finish eating these strawberries, they will go bad if we leave them.”

She gladly accepted with a nod. 

He entertained her with stories of the times he used to sneak into the kitchen and how he would drive everyone crazy when he was younger. She laughed in her endearing and silent way at some of his tales and finished most of the strawberries by herself. He finally realized how much time had passed when he heard a distant clock bell mark a new hour. He looked around. There wasn’t any more light coming from the window other than the bluish light from the moon, and the only way he could still see her was by the lanterns throwing orange and red hues that danced over her hair and face. Her lips, glossy from eating so many strawberries, shined under the light as well, redder than they were a few hours earlier. He was entranced by them, especially by the strawberry stains and crumbs that sat adorably at the corners of her lips.

She noticed him smiling and tilted her head at him in question. He suppressed a snicker.

“Oh, you have something on your…” he pointed at the corner of his lip with a finger. Her eyes went wide and her hand flew to her mouth, rubbing the right corner of her lip with the back of her hand. She looked back to him as if asking him if that was okay. She had taken some of it off, but the left side was still intact and there were now some crumbs on her right cheek. Eric shook his head and reached for a napkin. “May I?”

His voice was nonchalant and gave the impression that he didn’t think much of it, but the reality was quite the opposite. Suddenly the simple act had taken a whole new meaning, one that made him burst with nerves that he wished would just go away. Whatever was happening to him since the beginning of the day, those sudden infuriating fits of emotion, had to stop. He just kept acting like some school boy meeting a girl for the first time and he had to put an end to it, so he ignored his bursting heart and held his ground on his offer.

The girl, on the other hand, did not seem even a bit nervous or flustered. She only gave a nod, leaned towards him and raised her chin without much thought. So he, in return, attempted to do the favor without much thought as well. He wiped the corners of her lips and those little crumbs on her cheek swiftly and with a feather touch, barely touching her skin, until her face was all prim and proper again. (Except for that gloss in her lips which he couldn’t stop staring at.)

“There. All done, miss.”

_ Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?  _ The world hadn’t ended, just a gentleman favor for a lovely lady. Of course, that couldn’t have been the end of it, because what she did next almost made him gasp if he hadn’t been too shocked to react. 

The girl took the napkin from his hand and leaned even closer to him to the point where she was supporting herself with a hand on his knee. She then wiped the corner of his lips in the same manner that he had, quick and gentle. Eric was sure his heart had completely stopped with no hope of ever beating again. His body had become completely tense and he was reminded of that night on the ship by the way he felt like someone had set him on fire. Everything felt warm, his arms and hands, that little spot in his knee where her hand was resting and his face, Especially his face. It had to be red as the strawberries, she had to notice, there was no way she wouldn’t notice.

But she didn’t seem to notice. She only finished wiping his mouth, clearly unaffected and focused on her task. How could she be so calm? Eric felt like he was going to come down with a fever, or faint, or die. Then, her eyes met his petrified ones and it was as if something had clicked in her mind. Her hand became frozen in its place close to his face and blood rushed to her cheeks at an amazing speed. Eric couldn’t move and she didn’t seem to be able to move either. She was close, just a few inches away from him. So close he could feel her breath in his face, could see the way her eyes had become more of a royal blue in the dim light, and that damn gloss in her lips. She was so, so beautiful. It wasn’t right, he had to move away, he had to say something.

His lips parted intending to speak and the spell was broken. She jumped back, holding her hand to her chest as if she had been burned. Eric could only try to regain his breath with deep intakes of air. Why was he reacting that way? It was nothing, absolutely nothing. The sailors would never stop laughing at him if they saw him. Silence fell upon them as he tried to process what had just happened. 

Alright, that was it, night was over.

“I think-” Eric tried to say but stopped when his voice came out a couple of octaves higher than it should. He cleared his throat, “We should probably go now, it’s getting late.”

He stood up and brushed his trousers with his hands. He hesitated before offering his hand to help her stand. It was the polite thing to do but he didn’t feel like coming in contact with her was such a good idea at the moment. Fortunately, she didn’t need his help. Before he could decide what to do she stood up on her own and didn’t seem to mind his lack of manners. 

He supposed that, at least, he should scort her back to her room. She didn’t hold into his sleeve this time, which was either a good or a bad thing depending on how he looked at it. The walk back was silent. It wasn’t awkward, he wouldn’t call it awkward, but there was a rather tense and expectant air between them, like a rock waiting to fall down a cliff, as if waiting for something to happen. It was definitely not comfortable, but not unpleasant either.

Once they reached the door of the guest room he turned back towards her. She was looking down, with her hands holding the fabric of her skirt tightly. She looked embarrassed, and no matter how embarrassed he felt himself, he couldn’t allow that. He forced a comfortable smile into his mouth.

“Well, here we are, miss,” he said. She raised her eyes and looked at him unsurely. Eric made sure his face was nothing but friendly and calm and moved out of the way to let her walk to the door. She gave him a nod and reached towards the doorknob. “I suppose I will see you tomorrow. I did promise a tour after all.”

That seemed to slightly brighten her spirits. A smile grew into her face and she nodded happily. Eric couldn’t help but smile too.

“Good night, miss. Sleep well.” 

She raised her hand and waved at him before closing the door behind her. Eric stood there staring at the closed door for a few minutes trying to calm his jumpy heart before he finally headed to his own room. The tiredness from earlier had started to set in after mysteriously disappearing for the last hours. He yawned and ran a hand through his hair. He had plans the following day and he had to make it as entertaining as he could for her, he might as well rest. The thought of it tugged at his lips.

He was about to turn a corner when a voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Your Highness,” someone called him. Eric frowned, wondering who could be looking for him so late. He turned around and found one of the members of his guard, still in full royal blue uniform.

“Fabian?” Eric questioned. The guard saluted him, “Do you have the night shift? Why are you here so late?”

“No, Your Highness, I am about to head home, but I had something to consult with you. If you don’t mind.”

Eric’s confusion grew, “What is it?”

“Sire, Dennik will arrange the guard duties for tomorrow later tonight, and we must know how many guards you will need for the search tomorrow so we can prepare for it,” Fabian stated in a serious manner.

“The sear- I’m sorry, what?” Eric stuttered out. Fabian blinked at him, giving a deep frown.

“The search. The lady, Your Highness,” he repeated, more slowly.

“The lad- Oh,” Eric’s eyes went wide, suddenly feeling like he had lost all breath from his lungs. How could it have disappeared from his mind so easily? He hadn’t been able to think of anything else for weeks, and all of a sudden he had forgotten in the blink of an eye. What kind of person was he? He rubbed the back of his neck, “About that-”

“We will be ready to ride at noon, Your Highness, we are just waiting for your order.”

“At noon…” he repeated under his breath. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to say yes, every other day he would have agreed without hesitation, but something was stopping him. He shouldn’t be hesitating.

“Your Highness?” Fabian questioned when seeing his doubt. Eric took a deep breath and straightened his back. He shouldn’t hesitate.

“Yes, Fabian, I-” He wanted to find her, more than anything in the world, and he was completely sure that that hadn’t and would never change. He wanted to go out and turn every single rock until he saw her again, even if it was to hear her voice just one more time, but… He looked back to where he had come from, towards the closed door of the guest room. She was probably getting ready for bed by then, excited for their plans for the next day, he hoped. How could he ever snatch that beautiful smile from her lips? What kind of person would he be then? 

He looked at Fabian again, as seriously as he could, “I really thank you for your service, but that won’t be necessary. I am afraid I will be engaged somewhere else tomorrow. I will notify you when your services are required again. You should take the time for yourself, you deserve it after these past weeks.”

Fabian looked surprised for a few seconds but then that expression disappeared for a calm, rather knowing one. He was almost smiling when he bowed before him. “Yes, Your Highness,” he said and walked away. 

Eric headed to his room, not regretting his decision even once. He had made a promise after all, and he himself was very expectant of the tour. He hadn’t been in town for fun in so long, and he was excited to show her all the lively places it had to offer. He was sure she was going to love it.

While falling asleep, he went through all the things they could do together in town, and amidst those plans and the sleep that was slowly snatching him from conscience, a stray thought entered his mind. He hadn’t even asked her her name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not have an opinion on whether redheads look good in pink or not. These are Eric's words, not mine. If you have something to say, please address him.


	5. V. but i'll lose her

In his dream he was drowning. He had been having those kinds of dreams every once in a while, since the shipwreck. They always started the same, him surrounded by dark and cold water, unable to move and breath. His open eyes were fixed on the water surface through which he could see the bright full moon. Everything around him was still as death, but it wouldn’t be for very long. He had had this dream before, he knew what was coming. Soon enough someone was pulling him towards the surface and dragging him to the shore.

He couldn’t see her face, he never could, his subconscious mocking him for his lack of recollection, but he knew it was her. He could tell by the voice that hummed that tune melodiously and the warm hand that delicately caressed his cheek. That was the best part, the one that he wished would last forever, his head comfortably resting in her lap while she sang. Close to him, not lost somewhere he couldn’t find. He knew it wouldn't last. Her pretty silhouette appeared in his vision and he knew the dream was coming to an end. This was the part where he usually woke up and was rudely interrupted by the view of his bedroom.

Except this time he didn’t wake up, he stayed right where he was while her hand held the side of his face, her thumb running small circles across his cheek. The silhouette in front of him became less hazy bit by bit, at the same time that he felt the tips of fiery red hair strands tickling his face. The singing had stopped. His vision cleared as if it were a sandstorm suddenly settling, and in front of him he found a pair of blue eyes in a pretty face, framed by that same red hair. 

Eric still did not wake up, nor did he react in some way while still sleeping. He stayed still, staring up back at her while she kept holding his face.

“It cannot be you,” he said in his dream. The girl only smiled and shook her head. His mind was playing mean tricks on him, this imagined version of her was as pink flushed and her lips were as glossy as the last time he had seen her. They parted as if she were about to say something but no sound came out of her mouth. Instead, she leaned in, her face coming closer and closer to him. His breath hitched and his hand went to the back of her head. He mirrored her movements, raising his head from her legs to come closer to her. Closer, closer, almost touching…

His eyes opened.

He was laying face down in his bed, the blanket tangled up in his legs and his mouth pressed against the pillow. He quickly turned to lay on his back. Well, that was something he was never telling anyone.

By the faint light coming through his curtains and the occasional sound of activity behind his door, he could assume it must have been early morning, maybe an hour after sunrise. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. He should probably still feel tired and he still had a couple of hours to sleep, but unsurprisingly he felt wide awake.

He closed his eyes and stayed still for a couple minutes trying to will sleep back into him to no avail, only achieving to summon the clear image of the mute girl bringing her face to his. His eyes snapped open, a tingle spreading across his lips.

If he thought about it, it made sense. The girl had made quite an impression on him, with him believing for a second that she was the girl that had saved him and her accomplishing the great deed of making him more flustered than he had been in his entire life in a single day. That should have been quite enough to sneak into his dreams. Also, the girl was very pretty. Eric was not dumb or naive, he had wanted to kiss girls before. He knew it was normal, and had nothing to do with his feelings.

Maybe this was the way his mind was trying to comfort him, putting a face to the voice, especially one that awoke feelings he had not explained to himself yet, but he could not allow it. It wasn’t her, and the girl he loved did not deserve to be treated in such a way. She was still out there and he was going to find her.

So, he put it out of his mind. He pushed it far, deep into his head so he wouldn’t think about it. He had promised her a good day and he could not let his strange imagination ruin it. He had to think about something else, anything else. The ribbons, they still hadn’t decided on the color of the ribbons. He just needed to think about the ribbons.

He spent the next couple of hours in an awake-asleep state, going over anything that came into his mind. He came to the conclusion that pink ribbons would match better with the heather theme of the festival, he decided that Max needed to be groomed, that the curtains of his room let in too much light and he should probably have them changed. He thought about everything, but kept the dream he had just had out of his own reach.

That was how Biergh found him when he came into his room to help him prepare for the day. He was visibly startled when he saw the prince sitting in his bed awake, jumping back slightly and holding into the porcelain pitcher he almost dropped.

“You are awake!” he exclaimed with wide eyes. Eric tried to hide his amused smile. He ignored the lack of manners and looked at the clock in his room. Biergh was 18 minutes late, as was usual on his servant. Where Galen was punctual and meticulous, Biergh was clumsy and often made mistakes, and yet Eric could not bring himself to part with him. Both him and Galen, despite his disrupted work ethic, were quite fond of the lanky and messy servant.

“Good morning to you too, Biergh,” Eric greeted with an easy smile. He did not mention his unpunctuality, as Biergh did not take jokes as well as Galen. “You don’t need to be so shocked.”

Biergh seemed to bring himself together, brought his shoulders back and bowed before him.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” he placed the pitcher on a bedside table and picked up Eric’s red sash he had discarded the night before from the floor. “I was merely surprised, that is all. We usually have to wake you up at this time- sire,” he added the title quickly.

“I know. But I figured I would make your job easier today,” Eric said, taking his night shirt off and standing from his bed. 

“Shall I draw a bath for you, sire?” Biergh asked.

“Yes, please, and you only have to take my clothes out. I can dress myself.”

“Of course, sire,” Biergh placed the neatly folded sash on his bed, then moved to Eric’s wardrobe, “Anything out of the ordinary? I heard it is a special day today,”

Eric chuckled, a small smile playing at his lips, “I would hardly call it that, but no, just the usual will be fine.” Biergh responded with a simple nod and a ‘Yes, sire’, immediately getting on with his task.

Eric yawned and stretched, cracking some of the bones in his back and neck, “How is Galen, by the way? I heard he will come back tomorrow.”

“Oh, much better, Your Highness. His leg is almost healed by now, and he stopped having nightmares. He shouldn’t actually come back to work yet, you know, the doctor said that he needed at least a week more of rest, but you know how he is, stubborn as an ox. Though I am pretty sure he would go crazy if he stayed at home a day more, but still- Oh,” he suddenly stopped, looking back at Eric with wide eyes and a white shirt clutched in his hands. “I was not supposed to tell you about the nightmares. He told me to keep it a secret. This big mouth of mine.”

Eric gave a small laugh, amused at his flustered servant.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell him that you told me.”

Biergh smiled slightly apologetically, “Thank you, sire. They were pretty bad, mostly about fire, but they are gone now.” 

“I am glad,” Eric said sincerely, though wishing to change the subject. It was reminding him too much of his own dreams. He quickly thought of a way to distract his servant, “Biergh, have you had the water boiled yet? You know it will be quicker if you have it done first.”

“Oh!” Biergh exclaimed, dropping the piece of clothing he was holding to the floor, “Right! I am sorry, Your Highness. I will take care of it this instant.”

Right on the hook. Biergh gave him a quick bow and hurried out of the room. Eric shook his head with a smile. Forgetting to boil the water, lacking formalities and now the prince’s clothes on the floor. How could he ever get rid of Biergh?

Eric walked to the window and opened the curtains (another thing Biergh had forgotten). He looked out. It was a lovely day, there was no doubt of that. It was sunny, for the first time in days, with a few puffy white clouds scattered across the vast blue sky and a nice breeze making the flags flutter calmly. In the distance, he could see the town glistening under the morning sun, the famous picturesque view of Coastal Vedhavet. 

Perfect weather, perfect mood. It was the perfect day for a tour.

* * *

For the second day in a row, he waited for her with an expectant heart. He wondered if maybe he should have worried more about his appearance. He was dressed in his usual clothes and had tried his best to dry his hair with a linen towel after his bath, but other than that he hadn’t prepared in any special way. He considered this idea, but quickly discarded it. He dressed up to meet princesses and noble ladies, but she wasn’t one. She was a person who he actually wanted to meet, someone with whom he felt he could be himself, not some overly polished version of himself. 

He paced around the hallway several times, trying to keep himself entertained and calm his excitement. His head snapped towards the corner when he heard steps clicking against the floor. He held his breath in anticipation but quickly deflated in disappointment when he realized it was only Grimsby walking towards him.

The old advisor chuckled at his expression.

“Don’t be so disappointed, Eric, I am sure she will be here soon enough,” he told him, his words slightly mocking. Eric rolled his eyes and leaned his back against the wall.

“You know, Grim, I am getting a little tired of the tone you have been using with me lately,”

“Hmph,” Grimsby huffed with humor, standing next to Eric, “With all due respect, Your Highness, reprimanding me for the tone I use with you is way above your jurisdiction.”

Eric couldn’t help but smile, “You have a point.”

“Of course I have a point,” Grimsby then looked at his face and raised an eyebrow, “Did you sleep well last night? You look tired.”

“I didn’t sleep very well, but no, I do not feel tired.”

Grimsby’s knowing look returned to his face, “Anything to do with the lovely girl you will be taking on a tour today?”

Of course he would say that. Eric tried to stop his frustration. The last thing he needed was someone instigating his strange thoughts, especially when he was trying his best to suppress them. He was not letting his own inability to control his feelings ruin the day for her. At the end of the day, it wasn’t her fault.

Eric kept his face unaffected, “Yes, it has something to do with her, actually. I think it would be rude to appear tired and unrested when I have already made a commitment with our guest. I am being a good host,” he responded, despite knowing very well that wasn’t what Grimsby was asking, but he was not going to tell him that he had lost sleep because of her. Not yet, at least.

Grimsby knew he was hiding something. Eric could never lie to him, the old man always read him like a book, so he was thankful when Grimsby did not question him further, respecting his silence. They ended up talking while they waited. Eric took the time to communicate to him the things he had decided in his early morning musings, which were mostly about the matters they had left pending the day before. The talk was just enough to keep him from pacing impatiently again.

The clock marked nine in the morning, the time they had agreed on. He was about to (finally) tell Grimsby he had decided the color of the ribbons when his words died in his mouth. He was convinced he was, but he really, truly had not been ready to see her again. 

She was walking next to Carlotta, listening intently to whatever the housekeeper was telling her, while she clutched a small notebook with a graphite pencil attached to it with a string in her hands. At her heel, his dog was happily following her, looking up at her with a canine smile and almost lovesick eyes. Eric could’ve almost laughed. Max always followed _ him _ around, every morning since the first day he had been brought to the palace as a pup, but all it took was a pretty and charming girl for him to change loyalties. Eric had no space to judge or feel offended, and at least now he knew where his dog had been all morning.

And the girl, well, she looked gorgeous, but that was not surprising. Eric was sure they could put her back into the sail and still look like the most beautiful creature his eyes had ever seen. Her hair was once again pulled back from her face, but this time with a blue bow that matched with her flowing blue skirt. The clothes were definitely not his mother’s, he had never seen the Queen, or any lady for that matter, wear such a small skirt. In his opinion, it looked much more comfortable than the wide hoop skirts of high fashion.

What made her look so beautiful, however, was found in her eyes adorning her glowing face. She looked so excited, her small body almost shaking with it. There was a big smile on her face that she didn’t seem to be able to shake off and a slight skip in her step. Her happiness made her shine brighter than any cosmetic he had ever seen could, and no matter how hard he tried, Eric could not stop his heart from accelerating at the sight of her. What was it about her that could make him forget everything with a mere smile?

She nodded at something Carlotta told her and then looked ahead of her, her eyes meeting his. Her smile grew even bigger when she spotted him, and she waved at him with eagerness. How could she be so impossibly adorable? He bit back a dopey smile that was threatening to appear in his lips and waved back. The girl picked up her pace and walked rapidly towards him, quickly leaving Carlotta behind while Max had to trot to keep up with her.

She was almost bouncing in her heels when she reached him, barely able to contain her excitement. Eric found himself letting out a happy laugh. She looked pretty in blue, it made her eyes stand out.

“Hello, miss,” he greeted with a smile, “Did you sleep well?”

She quickly nodded with enthusiasm, and with a quick movement she grabbed into his palm and pulled him towards the entrance. Eric was just going to let her take him wherever she wanted. He couldn’t wait to get out there himself, and who was he to stop her anyway?

“Where are you two going?” Carlotta’s voice stopped them in their tracks. She had her arms crossed over her chest, and both her and Grimsby were looking at them with slightly amused expressions, “You should at least eat your breakfast before you go.”

Eric looked at the girl. Her face was brimming with anticipation and impatience. She lightly pulled at his arm twice and he could swear she was almost pouting. That sealed it. He switched the position of his hand to properly lace his finger with hers. Her hand immediately warmed his cold fingers and sent tingles all over his arm.

“We’ll buy something to eat it once we get to town, I promise,” he rushed to tell Carlotta. He turned towards the girl and now he was the one pulling “Let’s go.”

“Eric.” This time it was Grimsby’s voice that stopped them.

“What?” Eric exclaimed exasperated. Grimsby frowned at his sharp tone, but only held up a small leather pouch for Eric to see.

“You are planning to buy something, are you not? Or are you just expecting to receive things for free?” he said in a scoffing tone.

“Oh,” Eric blushed, and the girl next to him brought her free hand to her mouth to cover a smile. He guessed he did need actual coins if he wanted to go to town. Without letting go of the girl’s hand, he reached for the pouch and attached it to his trousers. “Ready now?” he said to the girl, giving her hand a squeeze. She smiled broadly and nodded

They finally went out of the palace through one of the wide doors, where, down the steps, a stable boy was securing a white mare to his phaeton. Max followed them outside, or rather followed the girl outside because he refused to leave her side, headbutting her and raising his head to be pet every couple of seconds. The girl didn’t seem to mind his dog’s behavior, by the way she was smiling at him.

“I’m sorry, boy, you can’t come with us this time. I will take you out on a walk later, alright?” he said out loud when Max showed no signs of wanting to stay inside. The girl leaned down to scratch the back of his head as a goodbye, and Max took the opportunity to lick her cheek and ask for more head-scratches, refusing to let her go. “Max!” Eric exclaimed, though a bit amused, “Leave the poor girl be, you mutt.”

She stood up straight again and shook her head at him, shaking her shoulders in laughter. Without thinking about it, he reached his hand and put the few stray hairs from her bangs back into their place. It was strange, how natural it came to him after he had become a flustered mess at her mere proximity just the day before. He probably should’ve thought about it more, but he didn’t, because it was good and that is what he had wanted. If he mused over it too much he would end up reaching conclusions that would make him even more confused, and that would just throw away all of his efforts. So instead he took what he was given with no questions.

He addressed the stable boy, who was now holding the reins of the horse and waiting for the prince and the lady guest to mount their carriage, “Please make sure Max stays inside the palace, and maybe give him a treat.”

“Yes, sire,” the boy responded. Eric took the reins from him and thanked him.

He had to let go of her hand once he had helped her up the phaeton and had taken his own seat. He had to hold the reins to direct the horse, and holding them with one hand just to keep holding hers seemed like a little too much. He immediately missed the warmth and softness of her hand. 

She was startled when the horse first started moving and picking up speed. She winced and remained completely still, holding tightly into the carriage, but after the first couple of seconds, he struggled to keep her seated instead. She kept moving around, rising from her seat to catch a glimpse of the little houses scattered over the cliffs in the distance, and even leaning over to see the big wheels of the phaeton turning. This time, his fear for her safety won against his reluctance to stand against her wonder.

She pouted with crossed arms when he asked her to  _ please _ take her seat for the third time.

“Oh, please don’t look at me like that, miss,” he told her, laughing, “Trust me, you do not want to know what it feels like to fall off a moving carriage. It is not nice.” She dropped her pout to look at him with a questioning look instead, raising an eyebrow at him. “Oh, it happened a long time ago, it is not important anymore.” 

But she insisted, inching closer to him and pulling at his sleeve. She looked at him with those wide eyes, and how could he say no to that? “Alright, alright, I’ll tell you.” She rested her chin on her hand, listening to him intently. “First of all, I was seven years old at the time and I was a dumb child that fell off his carriage. But between you and me,” he lowered his voice, as if he was afraid someone would hear him, “I actually jumped out of the carriage.” She was taken back, and looked at him with wide, surprised eyes. Eric continued his story, “I was riding the carriage with my father that day, and I was angry because he had forbidden me from going to play at the docks. Something about children of fishermen and sailors not being the appropriate company for a prince,” he shook his head, “I was so angry and frustrated that the only thing I thought of at the moment was to open the door of the carriage and leap out while it was still moving.”

He looked sideways to see her reaction. Her mouth was open with shock and he could see her calling him foolish with her eyes. He chuckled at her expression.

“I know, it was stupid and dangerous, and to this day I am still not sure of what I was thinking, but I did it. I broke an arm and hit my head in a rock when I fell on the ground. Had a concussion and everything, and I still have a scar in my scalp. That is what happened, but when my mother and the doctors started asking questions, my father told them that I had fallen by accident. He even convinced the coachman and footmen to not reveal the truth. I never told anyone either, until now, so please keep the secret for me.”

He heard her open the little notebook she was carrying and the graphite scratching the page. She pressed the notebook against his knee. He took his eyes off the road for a second to read what she had written. The bumps in the road had caused her penmanship to be a little messy, but it was still legible:  _ ‘Why hide the truth?’ _

“I cannot be sure,” he responded, “But I have always assumed that he thought it was embarrassing to have such an emotional son. I guess a clumsy one was a better option.”

Her graphite scratched the paper and she put the notebook over his knee again.  _ ‘Maybe he felt guilty.’  _ Eric let out a brittle laugh.

“Oh, trust me, miss, that is not very likely. My father was not the kind of person to feel guilty about such things,” he declared, but she still looked at him unsurely, as if she doubted that was true. He shrugged his shoulders, “I guess we will never know. He passed away five years ago, so it’s better if we don’t stress ourselves over it.”

He turned to her with a smile, and he noticed the way she was looking at him. Sadness, pity.

“Oh, I know that look. Trust me, it is not necessary. We moved on from his death a long time ago, it doesn’t affect me anymore.” It wasn’t a lie, it was more of a half-truth. It affected him, but probably not in the way she thought it did.

She didn’t write or mime anything for a few seconds, and then she was writing again. He looked at the notebook over his knee. 

_ ‘My mother died when I was four.’ _

“Oh,” he said, his features falling, “I’m sorry.”

She smiled lightly and pointed at him. 

“Me?” he asked. She pointed more exactly towards his cheek. “My face? What about it?”

She sighed and took her notebook again. She wrote,  _ ‘I know that look, it is not necessary.’ _

“Oh,” he said again, now understanding. He laughed quietly, “Well, now I understand that it is an easy look to get.”

The notebook was back on his knee.  _ ‘It was a long time ago, we moved on.’ _

“I can understand that,” Eric said, “What about your family? What is it like? If I may ask,” he added quickly after remembering their conversation from the day before. Thankfully, she didn’t seem saddened by his question. She quickly wrote,  _ ‘I grew up with my sisters and my dad.’ _ “Oh, you have sisters. How many?” She put down her pencil to hold up six fingers. Eric exclaimed with disbelief, “Six sisters? I can’t fathom it, I don’t know what I would do with so many siblings. I always did want a sibling, though. At least one, someone I could get in trouble with so I wouldn’t have to go through it alone.”

She laughed in her silent way next to him.  _ ‘I would get in plenty of trouble without my sisters.’ _

Eric looked at her sideways with a mischievous smile, “Did you, now?” She nodded. “What for?”

This time she closed her notebook and went back to admiring the scenery. Eric gasped with mock indignation.

“You are not telling me?” She kept ignoring him, now looking at a sheep-shaped cloud in the sky. “After I told you the embarrassing story of how I jumped out of my carriage? That is a bit unfair, isn’t it?” He got no response, but from her profile he could see she was smiling. He kept his playful tone, “Very well, then. Don’t tell me. But now I will not tell you about the time I sneaked an octopus into the palace because I wanted a pet.”

Her head snapped towards him with interest and she leaned in towards him, her eyes begging him to keep talking. He smiled with satisfaction.

“That will have to be a tale for another day. Look,” he pointed in front of him with his chin. Her eyes followed the direction, and like fire from a chimney he could feel her excitement lighting up from inside of her and radiating all around her.

The scattered houses had become a town that rose above the sea, nestled in the cliffs and hills that surrounded the coast. It was a pretty little thing, with stone bridges and roads, a charming plaza, a small church at the top of the cliff and the best people there were in the world. He couldn’t wait to show all of it to her.

* * *

The town was bustling with activity that morning. Everywhere he looked he could see children playing around, women carrying buckets of water and laundry baskets as well as all kinds of people setting up their stalls for the morning market. It wasn’t very hard to find someone that would watch over their horse while they walked around town for a few coins.

The girl jumped off the phaeton with an energetic hop and seemed to be ready to move. She did not waste a second to grab his hand and pull him towards the closest point of interest, a stall that sold glass crafts. Eric had to will himself to, just that one time, stand on his ground and not let her move him. She turned to look at him impatiently.

“We will go see everything soon, I promise. But I told Carlotta I would get you something to eat as soon as we got here, and if I don’t she’ll know, trust me. Just bare with me for a few minutes, alright?” Her impatience did not diminish, but she nodded reluctantly. Eric pulled her in his direction with a smile. “Also, I am sure you will love the place I have in mind. It will be just as interesting as the glass stall.”

That seemed to pique her interest. Mirroring his earlier action, she laced her fingers with his and held it tightly, giving him a nod.  _ ‘Lead the way’  _ he read in her expression.

He was so entranced by her curious and determined eyes, by the way that having her hand back in his felt so right, that he almost didn’t notice, but it was able to barely pass the threshold of his attention. The hidden whispers and puzzled glances from many of the people around him. The townspeople knew who he was, how could they not? The prince had never been shy to walk around town with no discretion, and he was mostly unbothered whenever he made a public appearance. Whispers behind his back were not something he was used to at home but, if he thought about it, it made sense. The normally laid-back and good-natured prince had lately only shown his face to desperately look for a girl that had saved him then disappeared without a trace. Of course they were confused by his sudden apparition, especially as he was accompanied by a girl.

He did his best to ignore it, and he hoped that she wouldn’t notice the way people were looking at her. He put on his best smile and led her to walk across the street.

He took her to a French bakery he knew very well just a few streets away from the fountain. The bell rang when he opened the door and they were immediately received by the sweet aroma of bread and sugar. Mr. Olsen did not have many customers that morning, only a couple of girls with bonnets choosing biscuits from a display. 

Mr. Olsen looked up from what he was doing behind the counter when hearing the bell.

“Good morning,” Eric greeted. Mr. Olsen’s eyes widened, then his brow furrowed. His gaze went from the prince’s face to the girl next to him to the way their hands were still linked together. There was confusion all over the baker’s features, but he quickly collected himself and gave his customers a smile.

“My, Prince Eric, is that you?” he said cheerily, “Haven’t seen you around here in so long. How are you, Your Highness?”

“Very well, sir, thank you for asking. I-”

“Mary! Mary!” Before Eric could say anything else, or stop him for that matter, Mr Olsen started calling his wife’s name towards the back of the store. “Mary, look who's here!”

A woman with an apron and her hair wrapped in a scarf came out from the back at Mr. Olsen's call. When she saw Eric she looked as confused as her husband had, but that confusion quickly turned into a big smile.

“Prince Eric!” she exclaimed, “We are so glad to have you here! It feels like ages have passed since the last time you came.”

“Months in fact, if I am not mistaken,” Mr. Olsen continued, “Of course we missed our best customer.”

“Oh, yes, indeed. Making palmiers was not the same without having the prince around to offer them too.”

“And who is this lovely lady?” Mr. Olsen suddenly asked, looking at the girl curiously. The girl blushed a little under the sudden attention, “Hello, my dear, how do you do?”

“Oh, if you aren’t a pretty little thing,” Mrs. Olsen said before they could receive any response. She gave a small gasp and covered her mouth with her hand, looking at Eric with wide eyes, “Could she be by any chance-”

“No, no, not at all!” Eric finally interrupted the couple with mild panic in his voice. He didn’t want her to be hearing about that yet. He blushed when he noticed that even the other customers were looking at him after his sudden outburst. Gee, he had to  _ calm down _ . “I mean, no, she is a guest in the palace and I am showing her around town. She’s new in the kingdom.”

“Oh, I see,” Mrs. Olsen shared a glance with her husband. She then looked at the girl with a gentle smile, “Well, welcome to Vedhavet, my lady. And, Prince Eric, you must definitely take her to the Greenhouse, she will love it. The flowers must be in full bloom by now.”

“And the orchard, definitely,” Mr. Olsen added, “The apricots from there are the best.”

“I heard musicians will be playing at the square today, that is a must.”

“And of course a visit in Vedhavet is not completed without a walk in the beach, Your Highness.”

“Oh! I have a tray of eclairs just cooling down, you must stay to try them. I will bring chairs for you two.”

“That will not be necessary, Mrs. Olsen!” Eric stopped the baker’s wife for the second time before she could take another step, “We are just here to pick up an appetizer, we must be on our way soon. Lots to see, you know.”

“Of course, of course, I understand,” Mrs. Olsen said, not once losing her enthusiasm, “What will you two have then?”

“Can we have four madeleines? And pack some of those eclairs too, I wouldn’t miss them for the world.” Mrs. Olsen nodded and opened the door to the back of the bakery. Eric thought of something else, “Oh, and can we have a slice of fraisier cake if possible?”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Mrs. Olsen responded, and went inside the kitchen

“Coming right up,” Mr. Olsen walked to the racks where several pastries were on display and started choosing madeleines for them. Eric was used to it, but he had always found fascinating how the couple seemed to finish each other’s thoughts and follow each other’s course of action. He guessed that was what finding a true soul partner was.

He looked at the girl standing next to him and found her a little flustered. He squeezed her hand to call her attention and mouthed the words ‘I’m sorry’. She smiled lightly and shook her head. 

They looked at some of the displays while they waited. Eric let go of her hand so she could walk and explore whatever she wanted. She was especially interested by the frosted biscuits with pretty floral designs, while he was trying very hard to ignore the way the girls on the other side of the store were looking at them and whispering to each other. 

Mr. and Mrs. Olsen returned with the wrapped goods to the counter.

“Four madeleines and a slice of fraisier cake,” Mr. Olsen said, then he added with a wink, “And something special for the lady. Take it as a welcome gift.”

“And an incentive to return soon,” Mrs. Olsen finished. The girl’s face brightened and she nodded happily, taking the biggest package in her hands. Eric thanked the couple, and despite their objections he left the fair price for the pastries on top of the counter. With a last goodbye they both exited the bakery.

“I am sorry about that,” Eric told her as soon as they were walking on the street again, “I know they can be a little overwhelming, but they are good people. I’m sorry if you felt uncomfortable.”

She shook her head again, and he could tell by her expression that she had even liked them. Without bothering to wait until they stopped she opened the package with interest. Eric knew it most likely contained the madeleines and eclairs, plus whatever the Olsens had gifted the girl. He felt as moved as she seemed when she took out a single frosted biscuit decorated with a sugar red rose. He silently thanked the couple for making that pretty smile appear in her face.

They sat together in the fountain to eat their unlikely breakfast while more people started coming out into the streets. With that, the whispers increased, but it was becoming easier and easier to ignore them. He rejoiced in the way she couldn’t seem to get enough of the pastries. He almost forgot to eat himself just watching her until she reminded him to, and even after that he just slowly took bites out of a madeleine, unable to take his eyes off her. 

He was especially excited to see her try the fraisier cake. After seeing how much she had liked strawberries the day before, he had immediately thought that fraisier cake was the next best thing for her to try. She loved it, of course, and he made a mental note to buy an entire cake on their way home.

After that they were ready to go, and with the anticipation she had been building up and the extra dose of sugar in her system, he was sure nothing would stop her this time.

* * *

Any plan he had made flew out the window. Instead, he let her lead the way, letting her see whatever her heart desired. Her notebook and pencil lay mostly forgotten in the pocket of her skirt as they walked, partly because of how engaged her attention was with her surroundings and because they both found that they preferred to play the guessing game.

They didn’t go as far as the Greenhouse or the orchard as the Olsens had suggested, but everything she saw she was enchanted by. It wasn’t just the stores and market stalls that caught her attention, every single thing was worth a five minute stop to be admired. Eric had never been more glad to stop and wait for someone. In fact, he felt that in some way he was the one getting the most out of walking with her. He had been to that town more times than he could remember, he knew those streets like the back of his hand, and yet he felt like he was seeing them for the first time. He had never stopped to look at the pink flowers that grew between the cracks of the cobbled street, or how pretty the green vines that grew over the walls looked.

Especially with all the recent events. In the past days, he had done nothing but rush through the town with eyes for nothing but finding her. It had been a while since he had allowed himself to truly stop and look around him.

They stopped in places that, having seen them so many times, were not interesting for him but to her it was like exploring a new world. She dragged him into a woodwork shop, where she spent a good chunk of the time listening to the carpenter explain how each little wood toy and trinket worked. Meanwhile Eric, feeling how unnecessary he was, just looked at the different products absentmindedly. In a small display table he found a variety of carved wooden hairbrushes. He considered buying one for her, taking it as an opportunity to correct that confusion with the fork, but decided against it. If a fork was a hairbrush for her then a hairbrush it would be.

Just then an energetic blur of red and blue appeared in front of him. He barely had registered her presence when a miniature water bucket (most likely a children’s toy) was pushed into his hands. The sudden movement made some of the water in it spill into his fingers and the floor. She looked slightly apologetic, but it did not diminish her excitement.

“What is it?” he asked her. Her eyes sparkled as she presented him a small wooden bird that only appeared to be a carved figure until further examination. He realized it was more of a whistle, with the tail of a bird acting as a mouthpiece and a tiny hole over its head. It was painted dark brown, polished and varnished to the point of looking like porcelain. He raised his eyebrows, silently asking her to proceed.

She brought the strange whistle to her mouth and blew on it. A shrill, ear-piercing sound came out of it ungraciously. Eric cringed at the sound.

“Wow, that’s-” he started but she quickly stopped him with a raised hand. His mouth immediately snapped shut. In an excited manner she dipped the bird into the water bucket. Once it was filled with the liquid, she brought it to her lips once more and blew once more, this time however, it produced a trill very similar to that of a bird along with the vague gurgling of water inside of it.

Eric felt as much fascination as he saw in her eyes. He had never seen something like it before, and he got to see many things in many places. She placed the whistle in his outstretched palm when he asked her if he could see it. It had a pretty carving and a very smooth finished to the touch. The bird, however, did not keep his attention for very long. He was distracted by the warm feeling that spread in his chest when she saw her big, bright eyes following the bird with wonder as he moved it around his hand. A small smile played at her lips and her face had an almost dazed look to it.

He didn’t think a more beautiful person could exist in the world.

He put the whistle in her hand again. “Do you want it?” he asked her. She hesitated, looking from the wooden bird in her hands to him back and forth. Then, she nodded slowly. He smiled. “Sir! We are taking this one!”

He wanted to buy every single thing that caught her eye for her after that. He was ready to reach for his money pouch whenever she ran her fingers over an embroidered shawl or held a ceramic tea cup for a little too long. She didn’t give him much time to do so, though, as her attention quickly shifted from one thing to another and she moved on quickly, fully expecting him to keep up with her. 

He did buy some things, when he got the chance, though he did not tell her he bought them with her in his mind. He liked the idea of surprising her. He silently bought a pretty blue journal and mumbled something about Carlotta needing something to write down her inventory notes, then bought a glass suncatcher that had thrown pink, blue and green sun reflections on her face and said his room was too gloomy for his liking. One thing he did explicitly give to her: the purple tulips she had liked so much from the flower stall. She had looked at every single flower in the stall and brought her face close to smell them, but the tulips were her obvious favorite. She had smiled widely when he offered her the small bouquet and had held it close to her as if it were the most precious thing she had ever received.

The whispers followed them wherever they went, though it had become something else. Eric noticed something strange in surroundings, in the way the people looked at him, in the way the young girl that had been looking at the sea glass products scurried away as soon as she saw the prince and his companion approach the stall. 

Maybe he had finally earned the disdain of his people, it wasn’t hard to come to the conclusion that they didn’t want an apparently crazy boy who dropped everything to chase after a girl as king. Despite his aversion to the crown, he was momentarily hit by the stinging pain the revelation caused him.

His spirits fell from the high they had reached during the day, but he forced himself to put it aside and not let it show. He didn’t want to tamper her joy with his worries. He would think about it later, when he was alone.

He chose a bracelet made of small green sea glass pieces from the table and quickly made his purchase while she moved a wind chime over and over again, clearly delighted by the tinkling sound it produced. Green was a good color for redheads, wasn’t it? That is what his mother said. She would probably look pretty in green.

“You know,” he started saying when he noticed her looking at the sea glass up close. She turned to him. “We have a legend around here, mostly among sailors, that says that pieces of sea glass are actually mermaid tears.”

He expected her to be interested and curious, like she had whenever he told her a story, but she had a curious reaction. Her eyes went wide, she frowned deeply and then she started laughing. She laughed so hard she ended up gasping for air and grabbing at her belly, choked sounds coming out of her mouth. Eric felt he had said something dumb and felt sightly embarassed, though seeing her laugh so heartily did much to lessen his shame.

She covered her mouth with her hand when she noticed his flushed cheeks. Despite his embarrassment, he couldn’t help but laugh too.

“Don’t laugh, it’s actually a very sad story.” He did not tell it as he had planned to. The story about the mermaid that was banished to the depths of the sea to shed her tears after saving a captain seemed out of place at the moment. “And it is silly anyway. We all know sea glass is just pieces of broken glass that falls into the sea.”

She nodded, mirth still gracing her features and a smile tugging at her lips. She outstretched her palm and Eric realized she was asking for the bracelet he was holding in his hand. He handed it to her and saw her bringing it close to her face and raising it to the sky to see how the sun looked through it. He was right, the green would look pretty on her.

“It is also both ironic and fitting, considering the story” he continued, “because in Vedhavet tradition, gifting some form of sea glass is viewed as a display of deep affection.”

And yet he had bought it for her, without even thinking. It was the color, he had bought it for her because he thought green would be a good color for her, and she clearly had liked the sea glass. It had nothing to do with the legend or his feelings. And even then, what if he wanted to show affection for her? He liked her, he enjoyed her company and he could well imagine her becoming a good friend if she decided to extend her stay in Vedhavet.

Affection. Friend. Something didn’t sit well with him.

His words sparked her curiosity. She tilted her head and raised the bracelet for him to see. She was wondering who he had bought the bracelet for.

“Oh, that,” he said, hesitating.

Maybe he shouldn’t give them to her. The journal, the suncatcher, the bracelet. He liked her, that much he knew, but could his actions be misinterpreted? He hadn’t considered it, and it quickly made him fear the possibility. He didn’t want anyone to think he had forgotten the girl that had enchanted him so quickly, and he didn’t want her to be hurt. He unconsciously clutched the box he was carrying tighter.

“It’s for my mother,” he responded after a few seconds. Unlike the half-truths he had told her before, that was a complete lie. His mother would hate the bracelet. She was a brunette, not the redhead he had in mind, and she always said green didn’t favor her as it made her look sickly. “She loves sea glass.”

The girl looked at him with those puppy eyes and she did that curious thing she did sometimes, the one where her lips parted with an intake of air as if she were about to say something. Eric’s heart always stopped when she did that, part of him expecting her to speak and to hear a familiar voice coming from her mouth. But that never happened, and this time wasn’t the exception. She closed her mouth and handed the bracelet back to him. Eric took it from her and thanked her quietly, feeling the strong urge to move on from the sea glass stall.

“Do you want to go see something el-“

“Excuse me, Your Highness.” A voice he didn’t recognize suddenly reached his ears. Confused at who could be calling him, he turned towards the source. He was surprised to see a girl around his age holding the hand of a little girl who couldn’t have been older than six years old. They were both dressed in simple clothing that told him they were peasants, and there was enough similitude in their features for him to assume they were sisters or at least closely related. The little girl was slightly hiding behind the older one, her eyes peering at him like an owl. There was something familiar about her look, something Eric could not put his finger on.

“Hello,” Eric acknowledged them. The older girl gave a courtesy and prompted the younger to do the same.

“Your Highness, I am Alma and- Adelaide,” she interrupted herself to whisper what Eric presumed was the younger girl’s name. Alma gently pulled at her hand to make her come out of her hiding and it took Eric that second to realize everyone around him had stopped to look at him. He unconsciously stepped closer to the girl next to him. While his heart accelerated at the realization, Alma continued her speech, “This is my sister Adelaide. We are Spokesman Harris’ daughters and, in the name of the town we are offering a gift to you. Adelaide, give His Highness what you have for him,” her tone became more gentle as she spoke to her sister. The little girl, Adelaide, looked up at her sister and hesitated before stepping forward with little steps. Clutched in her small hands was a small bouquet of thin purple flowers he knew very well. They were heathers, Vedhavet’s adored flower and the subject of their upcoming festival.

He gave a couple of steps himself, wondering why they were giving him a gift, when he noticed his movements made Adelaide stop and even back off slightly. Eric was frozen in his spot. She didn’t look just shy, he was sure she was positively scared. Scared of him.

In a second, it made him remember why she looked so familiar. It was just a brief moment in a memory that happened in such a blur that he hadn’t even thought about it since that day, but seeing her intimidated eyes made it return to his memory. It was on the first couple of days he was allowed to go out and search the girl himself, when he was the most relentless and moody. He couldn’t even remember what he had said, but he remembered the harsh tone he had used, his soldiers’ shocked and even hurt faces and the wide eyes of that little girl witnessing everything.

Eric felt ashamed, even more ashamed then he had felt towards Grimsby and Carlotta. He didn’t deserve a gift, he deserved every ounce of disdain his people gave him and more. How could they ever want him as king? If he hadn’t proved his unworthiness of the throne before he sure had proven it by now. It wasn’t something he could fix just because he wanted to, but he had to at least try to make it better. That little girl should not remember her prince as someone to be scared of.

Slowly, as gently as he could, he took a couple of steps forward and crouched down to the ground so his eyes were at the same level as Adelaide’s. She kept her wide eyes on him as he moved. Eric slowed down and gave the most friendly and gentle smile he could muster.

“What do you have there, darling?” he said in a soft voice. To his relief, the fear is Adelaide’s face seemed to diminish at his kind tone. She looked up at her sister once more and tentatively walked towards him. She stopped a couple of steps from him and wordlessly offered the bouquet to him, which Eric took with a smile. “Thank you very much, Miss Adelaide,” the little girl giggled at the formal tone he used with her. Eric continued saying, “But I believe such a pretty young lady deserves a flower too,” he slid out one of the heathers from the ribbon they were wrapped in and offered it to her, “Here you go, and thank you again for the gift.”

Eric felt incredibly happy when Adelaide did not look scared anymore. She gave him a smile that was missing a tooth and took the flower from him. She stuck it in her braid, most likely imitating the hairstyle Vedhavet maidens wore during the Heather Festival, and ran back to her sister giggling. Eric stood up from his place in the ground and looked at the bouquet. It was very small, only formed by a few recently bloomed heathers and prettily adorned with baby’s breath.

“Thank you to you too, Miss Alma,” Eric told the older girl. She inclined her head.

“They are the first heathers of the season, Your Highness, and we decided you should be the one to have them. We are all so happy to see you here again, and so well.”

Happy? The tone in Alma’s voice was sincere, she wasn’t being forced to say this. Eric, with a lot of confusion, looked around him. More people had stopped around them and had come closer to see the girl giving him the bouquet. He did not see disdain or resentment as he had expected in most of their faces, the great majority looked, as Alma had said, happy. They were smiling, and some of them were even stretching themselves to be able to see the prince more clearly.

Eric did not know how to respond, he wasn’t even sure he believed what was happening in front of him. He was convinced the whole kingdom hated him, even before the incident he couldn’t confidently asure that his people would truly want him in the throne. He was nothing like his father, who might have not been the warmest king but was certainly a good sovereign, and in the past few weeks he had only proven what he thought everyone knew. Could it be that they were actually happy to see him?

He waited for someone to tell him they were lying, for a tomato to be thrown at him, anything, but nothing happened. Everyone looked at him expectantly, as if waiting for him to respond, which he should be doing if he wasn’t a badly raised rude person.

“Uh,” he said unsurely. People leaned in. Eric felt warmth rushing to his cheeks; he wasn’t used to formally addressing an audience as a prince. He looked around and his eyes found the girl’s. She smiled at him encouragingly, and it was enough for him to put the words in his head. He cleared his throat, inclined his head and spoke as loud and clear as he could, “Thank you all very much for this gift and for your warm welcome. I really do not deserve the kindness you have shown me.”

He felt as moved as he could be, and his spirits had lifted even higher than they already were. As people started to disperse, they greeted him when they walked close to him. He was suddenly bombarded with “Hello, Prince Eric”, and “Glad to see you here, Prince Eric”. A middle aged woman even approached him, introducing herself as Miss Kaysen and thanking him for solving the issue of her disputed land.

Everyone was truly happy to see him.

The girl was smiling at him when he walked back to her after the greeting ended, an almost mischievous light in her eyes. Eric chuckled.

“What is it?” he asked her. 

She looked through the folds of her skirt until she found her notebook and pencil, then wrote a sentence for him.  _ ‘They love you’.  _

“You think so?” She nodded determinedly. Eric smiled at her enthusiasm. Maybe, just maybe they did.

He offered her his hand again, which she took with no hesitation. He lowered his voice when he spoke again, “I will be honest, I always thought they hated me.” She looked up at him and frowned, “It wasn’t really anything they did, I have just thought for the longest time that maybe I wouldn’t be the king they deserved. Not that I was doing my best to prove my worth either, I always ran away from it.”

It was only after the words were out of his mouth that he realized it was the first time he had voiced his secret concerns to anyone. Not even his mother knew of his reservations about the crown, and here he was spilling the beans to a girl he had found on the beach. He also realized he did not regret it at all.

She stopped walking and moved to face him. Her eyebrows were set in a serious look, and her eyes told him what her voice couldn’t.

“You don’t think so?” She shook her head firmly. Eric ran his eyes over her features, not for the first time losing his breath at how pretty she was and noticing the small crease between her eyebrows that such determined look was causing her. He reached out his free hand and let loose a strand of hair that had gotten stuck in her blue bow. “I am honored to have your trust.”

* * *

“Just follow my steps. One, two, three. One, two, three- Wait, let’s just start again.”

Once again, her feet had mixed up and had caused her to trip and almost fall. Eric held the hand he was holding tight to keep her on her feet. Her initial confidence had begun to waver as dancing proved to be more difficult than she originally thought. He held her firmly in her place and instructed her to start again. One, two, three.

As soon as she had heard the music coming from the square, excitement had filled her small frame. She had jumped up and down and had pulled him towards the source of the music, becoming bright-eyed when she saw the couples dancing in the middle of the square. She, of course, wanted to join, and he, of course, could not deny her anything. Her enthusiasm and impatience to join the dancers only made him all the more surprised at finding out that she didn’t know how to dance.

It wasn’t that she was clumsy or that she was a bad dancer, in fact there was a certain graceful air in her that he had never seen in anyone else before. She walked and moved as if she were floating, with the lightness of a breeze, as if she were about to leap into the air any second. The only thing that stopped her gracefulness, and her dancing at the present, was the occasional tremble of her legs, sudden weakness in her extremities, something Eric suspected was most likely due to the shipwreck she had been in just the day before.

He was sure she could do it. She was already getting the hang of the simple three step dance he had chosen to teach her, since the Vedhavet popular dance most of the dancers were participating in was too elaborate, it would take too much memorizing from her part and the simple dance gave him the advantage of keeping her hand and his without having to let go to do all those turns and dance partner switches.

He tried to turn while dancing and the heel of her shoe slipped, causing her to almost fall once again. She huffed in frustration, her eyes glued to their feet.

“You are almost there, miss, you are doing so well,” he told her encouragingly. She still would not take her gaze from the ground, which was completely unacceptable. He took his hand off its place in her back and gently tapped her chin with one finger, making her look up, “Keep your head up, you will trip more if you look down all the time. Talking from experience.”

She giggled, which was exactly what he had wanted. He moved his right foot back and was satisfied when she followed with her left foot, swiftly moving through the next five steps of the dance. Then she tripped again, but the progress was enough to make her smile widely.

She did not become a prolific dancer during their dancing session, but she learned enough for both of them to have the time of their lives. She became comfortable enough so that every time she tripped or accidentally stepped on Eric’s foot they would both laugh and quickly continue dancing. Eric could not remember the last time dancing had brought him so much joy. Ballroom dances in royal events were serious and carefully calculated, meant to look polished and pretty rather than to make the dancers have fun. With her he could just let his body follow the music and bring her along with him.

His favorite part was, by far, having her so close while her own face illuminated with joy and her cheeks flushed from the physical exercise. It was definitely a lovely sight to see from so up close. He noticed the specks of darker blue in her eyes and that a few freckles had appeared on her cheeks and nose after walking for a few hours in the sun.

Their movements became faster as the song they were dancing became more upbeat. She tripped more often, but her trips were quickly becoming part of their own dance. Eric let out a hearty laugh as he began turning repeatedly while holding her hands. She ended up going in circles around him, her skirt flying and her face scrunched in laughter. He brought her to a quick stop when the musicians played the last note of the song, bringing her close to him once again. She almost fell with the sudden movement, so he held into her forearms to keep her steady.

Eric could not stop smiling, “Are you okay?”

She nodded, her chest falling and rising quickly with heavy breath while she ran the back of her hand across her forehead to brush off some droplets of sweat.

Eric felt dizzy and his heart was beating rapidly in his chest, though he had a feeling it wasn’t because of the turning and dancing. If she was pretty before, now she was positively distracting. Her cheeks so flushed, her eyes so bright and her pink lips parted as she took deep breaths through her mouth. Something in Eric’s stomach completely turned upside down and he quickly looked away to the first thing that caught his eyes. His heart was still flipping in his chest when he noticed the golden light reflections in her red hair. He looked behind her. The sky was already mostly shades of orange and red, and the sun was making its slow but steady way to its hiding place behind the horizon.

“Huh,” he said out loud, frowning slightly. Had so much time passed? It had only felt like a couple of hours since they left the palace that morning. She noticed his expression and tilted her head at him in question. “Oh, it’s nothing. The sun is setting, that’s all.”

Her head snapped to the horizon with wide eyes, as if she couldn’t believe it either. Her eyes stayed on the sky for a few seconds.

“We should probably head back. I said we would be back by sundown,” he told her with some melancholy. She dropped her gaze at his words, crestfallen. Amidst his own reluctance of ending their day together, he felt a strange joy at seeing those same feelings in her face. There had to be something he could do, he didn’t want to let her go yet. He thought it over, rummaging through his brain to find an idea. Suddenly, he found one, one of the things that had come to his mind when he had attempted to plan their tour.

“Actually,” he said. She looked up with curiosity, “I think there is something we can do before we head home. That is, if you are willing to take a minor scolding from the old beanpole for returning so late.”

He offered his hand, an invitation. Her face became pensive, though the little smile playing at her lips told him that she wasn’t really thinking about it. Finally, she nodded and took his hand.

“Will you take the risk?” he joked, lacing his finger with hers. She nodded again. “We are going to have to walk back to the carriage, though, it’s a bit far.”

They went back to where they had left the phaeton most recently. Eric paid and thanked the kind man that had watched it while they walked, and then helped the girl up. At their feet there was already a collection of gifts and boxes, both his and hers, they had acquired during the day, from the empty package from the Olsens’ bakery to her bouquet of tulips. He held into the reins and directed the mare to an easy trot towards the place he had in mind.

The breeze was gradually becoming colder as the sun went down. The sky was no longer orange, but rather shades of pink and purple along with the soft blue in the east horizon, warning them of the imminent nightfall. He was most definitely getting an earful as soon as he entered the palace. He hoped the enthusiasm Grimsby clearly had about this girl did something to diminish his anger (though he greatly doubted it), at least so he wouldn’t have to spend as much time pretending he was listening to the old man.

It would take them at least 20 minutes to reach the lagoon, although they saved at least five after he left her drive the phaeton just to alleviate the curiosity she visibly had. Giving her the reins proved to be both dangerous and exhilarating, something that he probably shouldn’t repeat but that had given him a good laugh (along with fear for his life, but that was a minor detail). He ended up taking the reins back from her, just so they could get to the lagoon in one piece.

The sky was already mostly blue when they reached the lagoon. It was as beautiful as he remembered it, with lily pads floating around the surface, water birds everywhere he looked and the old willow trees, whose flowing leaves gently caressed the water every time the wind moved them. It was one of his favorite places, and he couldn’t believe he had completely forgotten about it during the day.

He jumped off the phaeton and offered his hands to help her down. She looked excited, which Eric took as a good sign.

“Careful. Big hop,” he said under his breath as she jumped off, light as air, and landed on her feet. Her legs momentarily gave out under her, and Eric held her tight so she wouldn’t slip. Interrupted gracefulness once more. It was almost endearing. “You got it there?” he asked her. She nodded and smoothed out the creases in her skirt, keeping her eyes on his. Did she know how breathless it made him?

He let out a nervous laugh and started walking down the small hill they had stopped by, towards the edge of the lagoon, “Hope you are not scared of water,” he said and then chuckled at the almost offended expression in her face, “Alright, alright, I guess not.”

They reached the nearest willow tree, the one that had a foliage so dense its leaves did not even let the tree trunk be visible. He had chosen that tree years ago for a reason. He started moving the leaves aside and stepped closer to the tree. She peered over his shoulder curiously. Hidden behind the foliage was the old rowboat Eric always used to row on that lagoon. 

He pushed the boat out from its hidden place under the tree and brushed off the debris that had accumulated on top of it after months of neglect. Then he stepped in and carefully helped her get settled and seated. Even if she had said she wasn’t scared of water he did not want to risk her suddenly falling into the lagoon.

He took it slowly, gently taking them from the shore to the center of the lagoon. Eric had always liked rowing. Where sailing was exhilarating and got his heart beating, rowing in that lagoon gave him peace of mind, finding something calming about moving the oars in and out of the water. This time, however, Eric did not feel calm. He did not feel uncomfortable or uneasy, but calm was not a word he could use to describe his mood. It reminded him of the walk to her room the night before, giddy, on edge.

A particularly cold breeze passed by them, making Eric slightly shiver and hope the exercise he was doing while rowing would do something to warm up his arms. The girl looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Are you cold?” Eric asked her, to which she shook her head with a curious look. “It might just be me. I am a little sensitive to the cold, especially my hands,” he flexed his fingers around the oars, already feeling them go a little stiff from how cold they were.

The girl imitated his gesture and looked at her own hands with a tilted head, then she offered them to him. Eric hesitated for a second, he was supposed to be rowing and he didn’t want to end up making  _ her _ cold. However, he ultimately figured that they were in a good enough spot for him to let go of the oars and that he really wanted the warmth of her hands again. He made sure the oars were secure and then put his hands over hers.

Despite the chilly breeze around them, her skin was still as warm as it had been when they were walking under the sun. His fingers immediately welcomed it and became less cold themselves. Her eyes were on his hands, looking at them as if they were a new thing she had found in the market, with curiosity and paying attention to every detail. She started running the tips of her fingers along the numerous scars in his palms, that little crease in her brow appearing again.

“They are from all my sailing trips and the work I used to do for the sailors,” Eric answered her silent question in a low voice, though he wished that his response wouldn’t quench her curiosity. He liked the feeling of her fingers running gently over his skin, it sent tingles down his spine that were far from uncomfortable.

She did stop doing it, but only to move her hands up to rub his exposed forearms until they weren’t as cold as he had felt them before.

A giggle escaped from his mouth before he could stop it. He could not bring himself to feel embarrassed. “Thank you,” he told her with a smile. She smiled back, her face shining. Even if he thanked the extra warmth in his arms, the next time her palms ran over his he held tightly into them to keep them in place.

He was briefly distracted by the contrast between their hands. Her skin was paler than his, almost glowing like silver under the moon, and unlike his scarred and calloused hands hers were smooth as porcelain. It was almost funny how she had what the sailors mockingly called “princess hands” when he was the prince. He wondered what kind of life she had back home, what was her everyday like, what made her leave so hastily. He started to believe that learning about her would not be as impossible as he had previously thought. 

The warmth, the softness, it all felt too familiar to him. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t shake off the feeling that those hands had touched his skin before. He almost wanted to bring her hand to his face so he could compare her caress with the one he remembered, but that would be ridiculous. It was all ridiculous, nothing made sense. The girl couldn’t possibly be her.

The girl.

He had to stop calling her that.

“You know, I feel really bad not knowing your name,” he finally said. Her mouth formed a small ‘o’ and she started looking through her skirt for her notebook, only for both of them to remember that she had left it in the phaeton. She looked disappointed at the realization so he tried to keep a smile on his face. A game, like the ones they always played. “Hey, don’t worry, maybe I could guess. Is your name, err…” he suppressed a mischievous grin from appearing in his lips, “Mildred?” he laughed out loud at the disgusted and offended expression she made. He raised his hands in surrender, “Okay, not Mildred. Maybe…”  _ Think _ , he told himself. Pretty names, she had to have a pretty name. What were some pretty girl names? “Maybe Diana? Or Rachel?”

He could see disappointment appear in her face. Of course guessing her name off the top of his head would be hard, maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea, but there was something at the tip of his tongue, dancing around his mind so close he was sure he could reach it if he just… His heart beat faster.

“Ariel,” he said out loud before he could understand what was coming out of his mouth. Her face brightened like a flame, a big smile forming in her lips. His mouth fell open and he repeated with disbelief, “Ariel?” She nodded vigorously and clutched his hands tighter. He almost lost his breath, he didn’t think he would actually get it right, “Huh, that’s actually kind of pretty. Very well. Ariel.”

The name tasted sweet in his mouth.

It wasn’t a very common name, at least not on Vedhavet, but looking at her it all fit. There was no way her name was not Ariel.

That moment, the second her name first crossed his lips, was like the storm once again, because if he had been paying attention or even trying to understand what was going on inside of him, he would’ve known that he wouldn’t have been able to stop it even if he had tried. 

There was a comfortable silence between them for a few minutes. Ariel was looking around her, at the moon and the willow trees, but he couldn’t stop staring at her. He hadn’t been able to calm his heart ever since they had danced together and even though he was already holding her hands, his finger itched to reach for her, even closer, as close as they could get. He was leaning in before he even realized he was doing it. His heart longed to be near, something he had only felt once bef-

_ What would a pay to stay here beside you? _

He took a sharp intake of breath and looked away, straightening his back. Mild panic bloomed in his chest. His mind was playing with him, it probably thought the girls were interchangeable but they weren’t. He couldn’t allow it. Eric kept his eyes on the surface of the water and tried to remember. Him on the shore, her voice, the way he had known it was her, he couldn’t let those things go.

He refused to walk so close to the edge again, but his resolve turned out to not last very long because soon his eyes were moving on their own towards her. And she was just so beautiful. He couldn’t keep his mind from repeating those words again and again. Everytime he looked at her he became breathless, he found something new to admire, whether it was the delicate lines of her face or the gentle air of her person. He couldn’t help it, he was leaning in once again.

Suddenly, her eyes went wide, her mouth fell open and slowly turned into a big smile while she looked at something behind him. Eric snapped out of his hypnotized state and looked to the source of her excitement. He realized the fireflies were starting to come out now that the night was darker. To him it wasn’t something very special, fireflies appeared everywhere as soon as the moon came out, but by the way her hands clutched his fingers tighter and her eyes moved rapidly as if trying to catch all the fireflies she could with them, he could tell that this wasn’t just a normal occurence to her.

She smiled wider as the fireflies came closer to them. One of them flew close to her face making her her scrunch her nose and shake her head with a small smile. She held up one hand and a firefly landed on it. The light was prettily reflected in her eyes while more fireflies swarmed around her as if they belonged there, which in some way they did. Ariel was all warmth and light, like fire, the flickering lights around her only reaffirming that she did not belong in the darkness.

She turned to him, looking like a fantasy come to life. Her red lips formed into a dreamy smile.

And Eric wanted to kiss her. He really, really wanted to kiss her. It wasn’t a sudden feeling that had come out of nowhere; rather it was something that had been accumulating bit by bit, slowly tipping over the edge until he couldn’t hold it anymore. He had wanted to kiss her that day before in the kitchen, that morning when he saw her wearing that blue dress, when he held her close while dancing. It was impossible to deny it once that feeling overtook him.

She was sitting there, right in front of him, shining under the moonlight and surrounded by dozens of fireflies. Eric felt like he couldn’t breathe. How had he denied that feeling? How had he’d been able to look at her for so long and not realize how much he wanted to hold her close to him? 

His heart was screaming at him once again.

He leaned in, realizing she, her lips, were closer than he had previously realized. It would be so easy, he only had to inch a bit closer and it would be enough. Just a bit more…

_ Just you and me, and I could be- _

He stopped, just for a few seconds. He couldn’t do this, it wasn’t right, he was already in love with someone else. And yet it was as if his heart had completely forgotten about her and could only see Ariel. Ariel, who was leaning in as well with fluttering eyelashes. He realized with a skip of his heart that he had been so focused on his own feelings that he hadn’t even stopped to think about what  _ she _ was feeling. What he found did not help his situation at all. She was shortening the distance between them herself, her eyes flickering down to his mouth every few seconds, just like his was. Her lips parted and he heard her release a small sigh. Eric felt warmth spread in his face.

_ If we could stay- _

He was engulfed by her scent, one he had vaguely identified when they had danced together. She smelled like roses, most likely from the rose water women at the palace used, but there was something under it as well. She smelled like a long trip offshore, like the mornings on deck, like a sunny day in the palace balcony. He inhaled deeply. She smelled like home and her scent only made him come closer.

_ Part of you- _

She was so pretty, her scent was intoxicating and he was dying to kiss her. He could no longer think of anything else. She was so close, and so warm. His eyes fluttered shut. His heart was about to burst out of his chest. Just a bit closer, as close as he could get…

Then he was falling into the lagoon.

It had been so sudden, so unexpected and he had been so unguarded that he didn’t even think about holding his breath before he fell on the water. Pain shot up his nose when he inhaled water with a surprised gasp. He quickly tried to get his head above water, bumping his forehead against the upturned boat in the process. That part of the lagoon was not very deep, the water would at most reach their waist if they stood up, but there was no space in Eric’s mind for relief.

He scrubbed the water out of his eyes to see if Ariel was okay. Her arms were flapping around agitatedly. Eric also felt agitated, but probably for a very different reason. He quickly moved her wet hair out of her face and held her by her arms to help her stand up. She had said she wasn’t afraid of water, but she looked pretty shaken.

“Hey, you are okay. I got you, it’s fine.”

Except it wasn’t. Nothing was fine. His calming words did not match the turmoil of his thoughts in the slightest. He kept that calm in his face and voice as he helped her walk out of the water, the gravity of what he had been about to do suddenly hitting him like an avalanche.

This was bad.

This was very bad.

* * *

Eric did not speak on their way to the palace. Saying that he didn’t have words would not be very accurate, because his mind was full of them but they were so jumbled and frantic that he wasn’t able to catch any of them to utter if he tried. He wasn’t sure she would even want to listen to anything he had to say. He hadn’t even looked at her since he had helped her up the phaeton, now knowing the consequences of getting too lost in her.

He forced his eyes to stay in the dark road ahead, trying to remain satisfied with the limited glimpses he would get out the corner of his eye every once in a while. She was looking down at her hands, her shoulders slumped and he could swear he could hear her sigh deeply every few seconds. She was probably so tired, but at least she didn’t look cold.

Eric  _ did _ feel cold. He was shivering the entire way and was barely able to stop his teeth from chattering. His wet clothes sticking to his body did not go well with the already chilly breeze of the night. He longed to be warm again, he wanted Ariel to rub his arms with her warm hands like she had done at the lagoon. But no, he couldn’t keep thinking of that, it had been a mistake, one he shouldn’t come that close to committing again.

And so he remained in silence, trying to remember and understand how he had come to that situation. 

When they arrived in the palace there were more guards in the entrance thand there would be on a normal day, all of them holding lanterns and with firm gazes fixed on the door. His delay had been noted and they were most likely waiting for him. He wordlessly helped Ariel down the phaeton and they both rushed up the entrance steps. Grimsby did not waste time in making himself be heard,

“It is almost two hours after sundown, Your Highness, just where exactly wer-” he stopped as soon as he saw the two teenagers well, taking in the wet clothes and hair, “What in earth happened to you two?”

Eric did not feel like explaining, he only wanted to be alone. He shrugged his shoulders and walked off towards his room without looking back once, leaving his advisor and Ariel where they stood. He was aware of Grimsby calling his name, but it did not make his step halt.

He closed the door forcefully as soon as he entered his room and sank to the ground heavily. He dropped his head into his hands and tugged at his hair. He had almost kissed her, he still wanted to kiss her, his lips were still tingling and his heart was still racing. Where had it all gone wrong? What had finally pushed him over the edge? Was it how beautiful she looked, or that he had felt happier than he had in weeks in those hours he spent with her? Why did he ruin everything?

He thought back to the dream he had that morning and brought the same excuse he had used. Natural response to a pretty girl, just like Captain Gilberg’s daughter when he was fourteen and Young Lady Catalina when he was sixteen. It was only natural, and yet why did it feel like the wrong answer?

Because it was wrong, he answered his own question. This wasn’t just an innocent infatuation he could brush off with no worries, he wasn’t a child anymore. He had finally found the person he had been looking for since he grasped the concept of love, and as fast as those feelings had settled in him these new ones had taken him in the opposite direction. He still loved her, he still wanted to find her, why had everything become so complicated?

He took a deep breath. He was tired physically and even more of thinking and worrying, it wasn’t something he could fix just because he wanted to. He couldn’t go back in time and change what he had done. The only thing he could do was go to sleep and hope that things would be easier in the morning. He stood up from his place in the ground and moved to remove his wet clothes.

He hadn’t even reached for the bell to ask someone to draw a bath for him when he realized that he wouldn’t be able to sleep if he tried. Over his fear and anger towards himself, he felt gnawing guilt. None of it was Ariel’s fault.  _ He _ had misled her,  _ he  _ had lost himself, _ he _ had hidden things from her,  _ he  _ had left her without even saying a word. He breathed deeply again. He needed to apologize as soon as possible.

He put aside his night clothes and dressed himself in a new set of dry clothes. He had to tell her he was sorry, make sure he knew it wasn’t her fault, right then and there, even if he had to talk to her through the closed door of her room.

The halls of the palace were dark and silent, as though everyone was walking in their tiptoes and talking in hushed whispers. It was a peaceful night, with a full moon and a low, calm tide, barely a murmur of the waves lightly crashing against the sound was able to reach the palace. Eric seemed to be the only one breathing loudly and walking with firm steps.

He found Carlotta walking back from Ariel’s guest room before he needed to ask for her. The housekeeper was visibly taken back when she saw him. She looked at him up and down and frowned.

“Now, where are you going?” she asked him, squinting her eyes slightly.

“I’m looking for-”

“You are not going to see that girl, are you?” she cut in, “Eric, it is too late, it wouldn’t be proper-”

“I need to talk to her,” now it was Eric who interrupted, firmly but with a hint of emotion in his tone that gave away his inner distress. It was not lost to Carlotta, who walked closer to him and balanced the basket she was carrying against her hip.

“Eric, are you alright?” she inquired and put the back of her hand against his forehead, “Are you sick? You don’t look very well.”

Eric put his own hand against his cheek. He did feel a little warm, though he doubted it was because he was coming down with a cold. “I am fine, I just really need to talk to her. I don’t think I will be able to sleep if I don’t.”

“Is that so?” she said, still looking around his face for any sign of sickness. Eric pulled her hand away from his face gently.

“Carlotta, I’m fine, I promise. I just-” he hesitated, wondering how much and what exactly he could tell his housekeeper. He ended up repeating himself, finding himself at a loss of words, “I need to talk to her,”

Carlotta raised her eyebrows and looked at him closely, from his forehead to the tip of his chin. Her brow creased with worry, “Did something happen while you two were out, dear?”

“No!” he answered quickly, but then realized that Carlotta was not being fooled. Why couldn’t he ever keep any secrets? He sighed, “Yes, I guess something did happen. But don’t worry about it, I just-” he paused again to reorganize his messy thoughts, “I need to tell her something, tonight. I… I did something, Carlotta, and it was my mistake. I need to tell her I’m sorry,”

Eric saw Carlotta’s face show conflicted emotions. She clicked her tongue and kept looking at him as if trying to solve a puzzle. After a few seconds, she spoke again.

“And this, whatever you did, do you think it is a good idea to see her tonight?” she asked, quietly. Eric silently thanked the Heavens it was Carlotta he bumped into, always the most understanding and willing to listen.

He didn’t need to think again, he had already thought enough since the moment they left the lagoon to last him a lifetime. He nodded, “This is not about me, it’s about her. I don’t want her to spend the whole night thinking she did something wrong.”

Carlotta appeared to be musing again, turning something in her head over and over again, She held the basket with both hands again, “Are you sure?”

Eric nodded again, “Absolutely.”

“Your mother really wouldn’t approve of this.”

“She doesn’t have to know, and it will be just a second, I promise.” Then, he noticed a slightly wet familiar blue skirt peeking from between the laundry Carlotta was carrying, “Oh, did she go to sleep already?”

Carlota huffed with mild humor, rolling her eyes.

“Of course not!” she exclaimed, “That girl has more energy than Max when he was a pup. We got her into a nightgown and ready to sleep after her bath but apparently she had other places to go. We barely stopped her from walking outside her room in nothing more than a nightgown.” Eric could see Carlotta’s plump face redden under the candle’s light. She shook her head with disbelief, “Thankfully we convinced her that she should be wearing something else if she still wanted to wander around the palace.”

Eric was able to laugh despite the warmth running to his face Carlotta’s words brought him. It did not surprise him in the least. “That would’ve been quite a scene.”

“The Queen would’ve had all of our heads if she found out,” Carlotta, despite her own bewilderment, also chuckled. “She’s rather strange, that girl, but”—she quickly added when Eric was about to protest—”she is absolutely lovely. I wished she would stay around for a bit longer.”

Under the housekeeper’s words, Eric was able to identify something besides the motherly fondness she was starting to develop for the girl. Hope, Carlotta was hopeful for a future in which Ariel would never leave them, in which she would become part of their small family. Eric’s smile turned somewhat sad. Ariel was not the only one he would have to apologize to.

He quickly changed the subject, “And where did she go at this hour?”

“She kept going on and on about books, or at least that’s what we understood from her gestures. Theresa took her to the library.”

Eric frowned, “The library?”

Carlotta shrugged her shoulders, “My guess is as good as yours. She must still be there if she hasn’t already run off to another place.”

“Thank you, Carlotta. For everything,” Eric said with sincerity.

“Do not even mention it, especially when your mother returns to the palace. Now go, and be a good boy at all times.”

“Me? Always,” Eric told her jokingly, but he realized how ironic his words were considering the reason he was looking for the girl in the first place. Carlotta shook her head at him one last time and went on her way. When she was just a few steps away from him, Eric remembered something, “Wait, Carlotta!”

She turned to him over her shoulder and asked, “What is it?”

“There were some packages and flowers in the phaeton when we returned. They are things I bought for her when we were in town, can you please make sure they get taken to her room?”

“All of it? You didn’t get anything for yourself this time?” Carlotta asked with a frown.

The suncatcher, the journal, the sea glass bracelet.

“Yes, it’s all hers.” They had been hers to begin with. “Oh, except for the heather bouquet, that one is mine.”

“Of course, dear, I’ll see it done,” Carlotta turned from him and kept walking down the corridor. He heard her say under her breath, “Heaven knows what happened on that tour…”

_ You have no idea _ , Eric thought, now more bitter than humorous.

The library was not far from there, he only had to walk through a few corridors to be standing at the door of the big room. The door was semi-open and a flickering light of a lantern came from under it. Eric heard a heavy book being put on the floor. He held his breath. She was still there.

_ I’m sorry. I’m sorry for trying to kiss you, for not telling you the truth, for ruining the day. _

He knocked a couple of times before slightly pushing the door, to let her know he was there.

“Ariel?” he called. Saying her name out loud sent butterflies flying in his stomach. He forced them to settle down before opening the door and entering the library.

She was in there, kneeling on the floor with a big book in front of her and looking at the open door with her big curious eyes. She stood out in the dimly lit room with her bright red hair and now white dress. He did not recognize the dress, it could’ve been one of his mother’s old dresses from when she was young but Eric had never seen it before. The silhouette was different from what he was used to seeing, with the waistline high up to almost under her bust and the familiar hoop skirt missing. The thin and flowing material it was made of pooled around her on the floor and the white color gave her an almost ethereal look. She looked like an angel and the sight of her made him almost forget what he was there for.

She smiled a bit unsurely when she saw him, her shoulders slightly shrunken into herself. So different from her usual brimming with joy and excitement demeanor. The guilt gnawed at him again.

He walked towards Ariel, every step a thundering beat of his heart, and stopped when he got to a healthy distance from her. He leaned against the nearby bookshelf and wondered where to start. The air between them had definitely changed, it was much more overwhelmingly tense since they had returned from the lagoon.

“Hi,” he said pathetically. She closed the book she was looking at before he could get a glimpse of it and waved at him. 

_ I’m sorry for trying to kiss you, for not telling you the truth.  _ Apologies never came easily to him.

He sat on the ground with his back against the bookshelf so she wouldn’t have to strain her neck looking up at him from the floor. “I was looking for you, I wanted to ask if you were okay.”

He knew he was beating around the bush and avoiding what they were most definitely both thinking about, but his words remained stuck in his chest, unable to come out. She frowned but nodded after a few seconds, dropping her gaze into the book’s cover on her lap.

“Are you sure? The water was very cold, you don’t feel sick?” he asked. She shook her head and then brought her fingers to her forehead. Eric leaned in with worry at her gesture, “Does your head hurt?” She shook her head again and pointed at him, or specifically at his forehead. “Oh,” he said, touching his forehead gently with his fingers and wincing at the sharp pain it caused him. He had not bumped his head into the boat hard enough to draw blood, but the surface bruise was going to last him a few days. He waved his hand, “It’s nothing, I’m sure it will be gone tomorrow.”

She tilted her head and appeared to be about to move forward approaching him. However, she probably thought better about it and remained in her place, her eyes falling to the book again. Eric noticed her trailing her fingertips across the cover and the side of the pages.

“Do you like books?” he asked her, beating around the bush again. She looked up and nodded, the ghost of her usual smile appearing in her lips. “I do too. I am not a very avid reader and I don’t really read as much as I used to, but I always enjoyed fiction. I think having to study so much in the past years killed some of the love I had for books.”

She smiled, laughing lightly. She put one hand on her chest and nodded.

“Do you like fiction too?” he asked, to which she nodded again. Eric looked around. He hadn’t been in the library for leisure in such a long time, but he was sure he would be able to remember where everything was. “I could take out some books for you if you want to. This place is huge and I know things can be hard to find sometimes.”

Her smile grew wider and she quickly nodded. Eric could feel himself smiling at seeing her old enthusiasm return. He stood up and offered her a hand to help her to her feet.

Oh, how easily she made him forget.

They spent the next half an hour or so going through the palace’s book catalogue. Eric tried to form the most diverse collection he could for her. He took out some of his childhood favorites like Gulliver’s Travels and Legends of the Seven Seas, fairy tales like The Emperor’s New Suit and The Ugly Duckling, books of Greek myths and even novels like Pride and Prejudice (one his cousins had teased him endlessly for reading but that he had genuinely enjoyed). He made a pile in one of the desks so they would be easier for her to find whenever she wanted.

She found an anatomy book and Charles Darwin’s On the Origin of Species and appeared to be very interested in them, so he switched his focus from fiction to science. They added geography, biology and a book on Vedhavet history to the pile. They even sat down to read the first chapter of Legends of the Seven Seas together. She seemed extremely intrigued at some parts and laughed at others.

Almost everything felt right again, almost, because the way his eyes would unconsciously find her lips every once in a while served him as a reminder that no, things were not right and it was because he hadn’t set them right.

He stared at her for a few minutes in silence while she slowly turned the pages of the book she had been looking at before he arrived, trying to put his words together again. Her hair still looked slightly wet and it wasn’t pinned back like it had been before, letting it fall freely down her shoulders and over her delicate face like a curtain. She made him lose his breath the more he looked at her.

“Listen, Ariel-” he finally mustered the courage to speak but was distracted when she pushed the book she was looking at towards him to let him see it. It was a book of illustrations, mainly of dancing figures, from single ballet dancers to popular dances. The picture she was showing him was of a couple dancing not unlike how they had done earlier that day.

“I haven’t seen this book in a while, my cousin liked looking at it whenever she came to visit.”

She tapped the picture and then put a hand against her chest.

“Uh,” he was unsure of what she was trying to tell him. He guessed, “Do you know this dance?” She shook her head and repeated her gesture, her expressive eyes boring into him as if willing him to understand. Somehow, he did. “Oh, you want me to teach you?”

She smiled widely and nodded. Eric hesitated. It was a bad idea, a terrible one actually, after what had happened the last time they danced together. It would be completely counterproductive. He should say no, he should just apologize and put some distance between them before he did something he would regret again.

“But you are already so good at it. You are basically a natural,” he tried to excuse with an easy laugh, but she looked at him with a raised eyebrow and an expression that was truly challenging what he had said. She had a point, she still couldn’t be called a skilled dancer but he wouldn’t go as far as saying she was bad at it. He should say no.

She looked at him with those puppy eyes. Eric inwardly groaned. Bad, terrible idea. Catastrophe would ensue.

“I must warn you, I am not the best dancer myself,” he stood up and offered her a hand. She put her hand over his. Oh, definitely a terrible idea.

He guided her to the center of the room where they would have more space and took both of her hands. She looked excited and happy again. Isn’t that what he wanted? To make sure she wouldn’t feel down about what happened?

He tried to remember his own dance lessons. “First of all, a bow.” He bowed before her and saw her do a rather clumsy curtsey in return. Eric bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling. She was always so adorable. He cleared his throat and gently moved her hands to the correct position for a couple dance, one hand on his upper arm and the other resting on his palm. He put his free hand on her back right under her shoulder. Terrible idea.

“Dancing is… I guess dancing is like having a conversation. Although,” he looked down sheepishly, “I suppose that is not the best comparison I could’ve used.”

She shook her head and motioned him to continue.

“Well, it’s rather simple actually. I say something,” he took a step forward, “and you respond.” She took a step back to match his. “Now it’s your turn.” She repeated what he had done and he followed her lead this time. “My mother used to say dancing is a language on its own, because you can express many things through it. You speak and I respond, back and forth.”

He let her get used to the simple movement, going forward and then letting her try. She tripped a couple of times, but just like at the square, she proved to be a fast learner. Despite not having music, they followed a tempo that they both seemed to be able to hear. 

He changed the step, making it a bit more difficult and more like the Vedhavet dances. She seemed confused at first, but quickly catched on to it, smiling to herself at how smoothly it was all going in comparison to her previous attempt.

“And just like a conversation, we can talk about anything you imagine. I can tell you a joke,” he let go of her back and suddenly turned her on one hand. She was startled but she ended up laughing as her hair flew behind her. “I can share a story with you, or I can even tell you a secret.”

He took both of her hands again and brought him close to him without thinking to illustrate his words. He aggressively remembered why it all had been a bad idea in the first place. He had repeated his mistake from the lagoon, it was too close, too near the edge. He told himself to move back but he found himself unable to. Tense, but not uncomfortable, he liked being there, he never wanted to move back.

“And,” he continued barely above a whisper, entranced by her lips that were once again dangerously near to him. He felt her hand gently grab at his arm, “she said that when you dance, you find out it is easier to say things that you wouldn't say otherwise.”

Her gentle touch that could not have matched her gentle air more perfectly. Her blue eyes, as beautiful as the sea. The way she looked at him, like she had found stars laying in the sand, the way he could see that same expression in his face reflected in her eyes.

_ I love you so much _ .

He almost jumped back and he could’ve gasped if he weren’t frozen in his place. The words had been heard so clearly in his mind that he feared for a second he had said them out loud. Where the hell had that come from? It couldn’t have been him, it wasn’t possible, why would he think that? And yet despite his incredulity, the words kept repeating in his mind over and over again.  _ I love you, I love you, I love you _ . He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe.

Maybe it was her, he thought desperately. Reading her words had become so easy for him, maybe he could now naturally hear them in his head. That conclusion did not make the situation better, because it meant  _ she _ loved him, and no, no that didn’t make it better. It made everything so much worse.

It was useless to think about it, because they were definitely his words, his own thoughts. Whatever it meant, whatever was happening, his mind was telling him he loved her and it was as if a compressed part of his heart had finally been liberated. He felt his chest violently open as the words kept repeating in his mind, again and again _. I love you, I love you _ .

He had to do something. It couldn’t be right, there had to have been some sort of mistake. This is not how things were supposed to go. He was supposed to know, he was supposed to be sure.

Ariel’s face had changed to a curious and almost worried expression, looking at him questioningly. The reflection of his face in her eyes clearly showed the panic he was feeling. He needed to breathe. He quickly let go of her and stepped back, which gained him another confused look from her. She probably thought she had done something wrong. He hadn’t fixed anything, he was only making things worse.

“It’s late,” he said, his voice breathless, “We should go.”

She took a step forward towards him. Eric took a step back. She stopped in her tracks, her eyebrows coming together and her eyes opening in what he painfully recognized as a hurt expression. It hurt him to see that in her face.

“Hey, Ariel,” he said with a sigh, walking closer to her against his better judgement. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day, we should probably both go rest.” She raised her downcast eyes and nodded, her expression now more tired than hurt. 

_ I love you, I love you, I love you _

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” he whispered gently. She nodded again, smiling tiredly. He held his breath when she walked forward and stood right in front of him. Not giving him any time to prepare himself, she stood in her tiptoes and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Something inside of Eric exploded like a canon. 

He had to get out of there.

“Good night, Ariel,” he forced his voice to remain calm. With one last look at her he turned in his heel and just about ran out of the library.

Suddenly everything had changed. The peace and quiet were gone. Everything was louder, the clock bells rang in his head and the beat of his heart was as loud as a war drum. He felt like everyone was looking at him, from every occasional passing servant to even the eyes of the portraits he walked by, and all of them were telling him the same thing.  _ If you were so sure, if you put anything on the line for the girl that saved you why are you hesitating now? _

He crossed the threshold of his room and immediately searched for his flute. He had to play that song, he had to listen to it again, he was sure it would help him remember and it would clear everything in his head. Yes, that’s what he had to do. 

He searched over his bed, in his drawer and his closet but couldn’t find it anywhere.

“Where is it…” he mumbled under his breath while moving aside his clothes to look at the bottom of a drawer. He hadn’t gone anywhere without it being at least near for the past three weeks, and now he couldn’t even remember where he had left it. How had he lost it just like that? His already accumulating panic began to grow.

The furry head that was suddenly pushing his hand looking to be pet did not distract him from his search. “Not now, Max,” he said and moved to check his bedside table. It had to be somewhere, it couldn’t have just vanished into thin air. When had he last used it?

He heard Max follow him, drop something at his feet and bark. Eric clenched his jaw.

“Not now, Max,” he repeated, his voice low. He had taken it to his walk on the beach the day before, then he found Ariel, then he worked with Grimsby…

Max headbutted his leg, whining when Eric ignored him once more. He took what he had brought with him in his mouth again and pushed it against Eric’s hand.

“I said not now, Max!” he yelled, losing his patience with both his dog and himself for not being able to remember. Max whined again, not used to being screamed at, especially not by Eric. He backed off and cowered to the ground, not much different to how Ariel had done at the library.

Eric gave a deep sigh and dropped into his bed, running his hands through his face. What was happening to him?

“I’m sorry, Max,” he whispered, reaching his hand to pet his dog gently, “I’m just very confused right now. I don’t know what to do.”

He considered his initial idea of just going to sleep, to hope things would be okay in the morning, maybe hope he could just repeat the day and do things better. They both had been so happy just hours before, he wanted to go back to that. While considering his options, Max suddenly crouched down and started moving around to get under his bed. He wasn’t a little pup anymore so he couldn’t get past his shoulders, but the gesture made Eric remember. He suddenly felt very, very dumb.

“Oh, right,” he said out loud. The flute had rolled off under his bed after he returned from the beach the day before, but he had been in such a rush that he had just told himself that he would pick it later. He hadn’t had any reason to play his flute since then so he had completely forgotten.

He kneeled on the ground and searched on the floor under his bed with his hand and, indeed, he found it there. He sighed as he turned the flute in his hand. He knew it wouldn’t fix anything. He ran a hand through his hair and looked at Max, who was looking at him almost expectantly.

“Let’s just go outside for a bit, I need some fresh air.”

He put on a cloak to protect himself from the chilly air and clutched the flute in his hand before heading out of his room with Max at his heel. After debating on whether he should go out on the beach or not he ended up in the palace’s wide West balcony. It was a foggy night, and the sea was still calm. It seemed out of place, the quiet ambiance that surrounded him, because inside of him nothing was quiet. Max ran off behind a firefly as soon as the fresh air hit his face, leaving Eric alone in the night.

He brought the flute to his lips as he had done so many times before, feeling something unfamiliar about it all of a sudden, and for a second he feared that he had forgotten or that the song would not come as easily to him as it used to, but it did. The song was still there, clear as day.  _ Where would we walk, where would we run _ . He played the notes one after another, hearing them come to life into the night.

It was shocking for him to realize that despite his panic of his feelings disappearing abruptly, nothing had changed. They were still there, that song still made him feel like a missing piece of his chest had finally fallen into place. They hadn’t gone anywhere, the only difference was that now  _ she _ was in the equation, her presence in it too overwhelming for him to ignore any longer.

It was impossible to deny now. Ariel was everywhere, she was all over. He wanted to kiss her, and hold her, and see her smile every second of the day, and learn every single one of the stories she was hiding. He wanted to learn the names of her sisters, to read the second chapter of Legends of the Seven Seas together, to take her sailing all around the world. Sailing, it wouldn’t even matter if she didn’t like sailing, with her next to him he wouldn’t mind keeping his feet on dry land.

He stopped playing, letting out a huff of frustration. He couldn’t make sense of anything no matter how much he tried to put the pieces together.

_ Start with what you know and continue from there. _

Alright, what he knew.

There was a shipwreck, he was going to die, he was rescued by someone who sang and took his heart away, or at least he thought she did, because then he met a girl and now she held his heart in her hand. A girl who was as warm as fire and as beautiful as the sea, who looked at everything with wonder and didn't hide her excitement behind a fan. The girl’s name was Ariel, and he didn’t want to let her go.

Eric raised his flute and played again, his eyes locked on the calm waves of the sea.

He imagined for a second the impossible, miraculous situation in which he would find the girl that saved him right there and then. She would appear on the beach, right where he had been found that morning, and she would speak to him in a voice that he recognized. She wouldn’t be a redhead, her eyes wouldn’t be blue, maybe her smile wouldn’t be as bright as hers, but would he say no? Would he truly, with all certainty, refuse her if she really appeared before him?

Why did everything have to be so complicated? For years, Eric had been convinced that he would know, that as soon as he saw her his heart would be sure that that was the person his soul was waiting for. But now, he didn’t know anything. Nothing at all.

The sight of a candle flickering through curtains caught his attention. He looked up at the window that he knew belonged to her guest room, and his heart ached.

_ Why can it not be you?  _ Eric had never felt more lost in his life.

“Two hours late, you come in here soaking wet and then you walk out on me like that. You owe me an explanation, Your Highness.” Eric did not even react when Grimsby appeared at his side. He would’ve normally responded but now he didn’t want to fight or pretend to joke around as he always did. Besides, he could tell by his tone that the old man wasn’t completely serious. Grimsby, just like Carlotta had, knew something was going on and he wanted to open a conversation.

“We lost track of time,” Eric said quietly after a few seconds, his eyes on his flute.

“Did you?”

“No, not really. I guess it was on purpose.”

“Hearing you say that without that obnoxious smile of yours is extremely unsettling.” That was Grimsby’s way of asking him if he was okay.

Even if Eric wanted to explain, he didn’t know where to start. He remained silent for what could’ve been seconds or minutes and Grimsby waited, his eyes set on the sea ahead of them and his hands clasped behind his back. Finally, his words were out of his mouth, straightforward and clear.

“I almost kissed her, Grim.”

“Did you, now.”

“You don’t sound surprised.”

“Well, you have been looking at her like a lovesick fool since the moment she set foot in this palace. No one that saw you two together would be surprised.”

Eric could’ve almost laughed if he were in a different situation. 

“I have?”

“A lovesick fool,” Grimsby repeated with a serious look.

Eric remained silent again, twirling his flute in his hand a couple of times. It occurred to him that, if what Grimsby had said was true and his inner feelings were so obvious, maybe she already knew. He wasn't sure how that made him feel.

He sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time that day and closed his eyes tightly. “I can’t do this, Grimsby. Is not as simple as you think.”

Grimsby looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t think I follow.”

“Yes, I wanted to kiss that girl but that doesn’t mean I have forgotten about  _ her. _ She’s still here and I know she is not going away. And I also know that if she were to suddenly appear I would choose her in a heartbeat.”

“Are you certain about that? Are you sure that is your choice?”

“Yes.” It was a lie, the whole thing was a lie. He wasn’t sure about anything anymore. 

As it was per usual, Grimsby saw straight to it. He looked at him for a few seconds with a slight frown before speaking again.

“Then why haven’t you told her?”

“What?”

“The girl, why haven’t you told or even mentioned it to her.”

Eric avoided Grimby’s eyes, feeling cold water running through his veins. He had been caught. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Another lie that the old man caught very easily. “Please, Eric, don’t think I did not notice that you stopped me from mentioning said subject in front of her several times, and I would bet my life that you have done the same with everybody that comes close to her.”

He was right, of course. Grimsby, the Olsens, various people during their tour. He had made sure not even a single sentence that included the words ‘search’ or ‘mystery girl’ crossed their lips in Ariel’s presence. He was on the spot, and yet he tried to lie once again.

“She does not need to worry about it.”

“Is that it, or is it that you are afraid you will lose her if she learns that your heart is supposedly someone else’s already?” Eric did not answer, he only kept his eyes on the horizon. Grimsby continued, his tone remaining neutral, “Because if you were as sure of your decision as you say you are, you would not hesitate to let her know of where you stand. You have not been shy to speak endlessly of your great love for the girl that saved you, why haven’t you said a single word to her?”

Eric still could not utter a word, and his fingers started running through the holes of his flute unconsciously forming the notes of the song without playing them out loud. At his lack of response, Grimsby kept talking, his tone softer and slightly reproachful.

“Listen, boy, I don’t know what kind of feelings you might have for her, but I can tell you one thing. That girl likes you, I am sure she feels something even if it’s just the beginning of an infatuation, and it wouldn’t be fair of you to toy with her emotions if you are not honest with her.”

That was something that Eric could recognize, because Ariel was easy to read; her eyes were so expressive and her actions even more so. She might not be feeling the torrent of emotions that Eric suddenly had but she definitely felt something. The thought gave him both a conflicting joy and guilt. He also wanted to protest at Grimsby’s words because the last thing that he wanted was to hurt her, but he accepted painfully that it was exactly what he was doing. He wasn’t sure what path he was taking and she had the right to know. Wanting to keep his chances open for his own sake was unfair.

Finally, he lifted the veil that he put over his thoughts and he let them freely roam around his head and out of his lips. He uttered the words like exhaling a contained breath.

“I think I love her.”

“It might be too soon to know yet.”

“I know how it sounds, especially,” Eric struggled to say the words, “after everything that happened the past weeks, but I know what I’m feeling and my heart’s telling me that I love her. Trust me, it’s more confusing to me than it is to you but that is the way it is and I don’t know how to make sense of anything.”

Eric knew his voice was rising and his distress was starting to show in his voice. He stopped talking and took a deep breath. Suddenly, Grimsby put a hand on his shoulder, something he hadn’t done very often since he was a child. 

“Slow down,” he told him, his voice calm and patient, exactly like talking to a child, “Take things one at a time. I’m sure whatever mess is in your head it will untangle by itself if you give it enough time. Just don’t deny yourself the opportunity of finding what is truly meant for you, for all you know it could be this girl.”

Grimsby pointed at the high window with his head. Eric looked up. Through the curtains he could see a silhouette that he easily recognized as Ariel. She was brushing her hair, but if he was seeing correctly it wasn’t a brush in her hand, it was a fork. Where had she even gotten a fork? He immediately felt the tight knot in his chest loosen up a little and he couldn’t help the way his lips wanted to form a smile.

“Her name is Ariel, you know?”

“Unusual name, but very pretty.”

“It fits her.”

Grimsby gripped at his shoulder tighter, and said no longer as advice or reproach, but as a petition, “Take a chance with her.”

Eric looked away from the window and focused on the flute in his hand, turning it around a couple of times.

“But what if I’m wrong?” His feelings had felt so real, would he be able to just forget it all?

Grimsby seemed to pensive for a few seconds before he spoke again, and when he did his voice was much more assured.

“Eric, I’m an old man, matters of the heart are something long forgotten for me. But, if I may say so, far better than any dream girl, is one of flesh and blood, one warm and caring, and that might just be right before your eyes.” In the darkness, Eric saw Grimsby smile. The old advisor bowed his head, “Good night, Your Highness, I hope your head is more peaceful in the morning.”

And with that he left Eric alone with his thoughts once again. 

He knew at once he had made a decision.

He would never forget her, no matter how much time passed and what direction his life took. How could he ever forget the first person that ever made him believe that he would find true love? It wasn’t easy, the thought of letting go of the future that he had already imagined. Maybe Grimsby was right, maybe it was too soon, maybe he still had to figure it out, but…

He clutched the flute in his hand.

He wanted her to be there when he did.

With a wide arc of his arm, he flung the flute into the ocean and saw it disappear beneath its dark waters.

He inhaled deeply, his first calm breath of the night, and he somehow knew that he had made the right choice.

He looked up at the now dark window again. His thoughts started reeling though now they were lined with joy and excitement for what was to come. Maybe the next day he could take her to the Greenhouse as the Olsens had suggested so she could see more flowers, or they could read the rest of Legends of the Seven Seas together, and then another book, and another. They had so much time.

_ Time _ .

He stopped dead in his tracks, suddenly feeling lightheaded and like the air had been taken forcefully out of his lungs. His heart started racing when the sound reached his ears. He turned around dizzily and looked for the source. It was a voice, one that made his face go cold, coming from someone walking along the shore. Despite the darkness of the night and the way his world seemed to be turning around, he could identify a female figure with long flowing hair. He couldn’t bring himself to focus on what the person looked like because his senses were suddenly clouded by that voice that was so familiar.

It wasn’t joy that overwhelmed him, or even confusion or surprise. Instead, Eric felt fear creeping down his spine, because it was her voice but no, it wasn’t. It wasn’t how he remembered it, it wasn’t warm or clear and he didn’t feel like he could fly as he had done that day. Instead, he felt like he was falling, like he was drowning deeper and deeper with no escape. He didn’t like it, he didn’t want it anymore, he wanted to go back inside and dance with Ariel again. He would kiss her eventually, he only needed more time.

Time. They had  _ more time. _

_ Oh, but they didn’t. She never had time. _

He had made his choice. He didn’t want to lose her so he would choose her. Ariel. He loved her, he was sure he did.

He loved

He

_ But that didn’t matter anymore, did it? It was the voice that had enchanted him, not that foolish mute girl. All of that back and forth and dancing around had been useless, all of those thoughts and dreams had been stupid, so stupid. He shouldn’t have doubts and he wouldn’t have them. He only had to choose the voice and all of this would be over soon, fast and easily, he wouldn’t even notice it. _

_ He felt a hand sharply pulling at his arm. _

_ The girl, Ariel… _

_ That little mermaid never stood a chance. _


	6. VI. where would we run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mild depictions of violence, vague references to self-harm (very vague)

**VI. where would we run**

_ The sand under his feet was damp and similar in texture to a sponge, the air around him was salty and the breeze was cold, but Eric wasn’t shivering, or licking his lips to taste the salt, or kicking the sand like he normally would. In fact he wasn’t moving at all, he stood perfectly still with his eyes set in front of him while the woman circled around him like a predator waiting to attack. _

_ She raised one arched eyebrow as she looked at him from head to toe, holding the pendant in her necklace between two fingers. Her red lips formed into a smirk and she let out a low chuckle. _

_ He wouldn’t call her beautiful. Her features were pleasant to look at and she was definitely attractive but, no, she wasn’t beautiful. If she were, she would be beautiful in the same way wolfsbane was beautiful. Pretty to look at, but deadly if you were to come too close to it. The look in her blue eyes, of such a cold tone they were almost purple, could’ve sent shivers down his spine if Eric’s body was carrying out any natural responses. Instead, he remained impassive, feeling the woman come closer and closer to him. _

_ She grabbed at his hair and pulled his head back, examining every last detail of his face. She then released it brusquely and let his head fall back into its tense place. He heard her chuckle again. She spoke, with a voice that was too sweet to be coming out of her mouth _

_ “I got to admit, that little tramp has taste,” she ran a fingernail from his temple all along his jawline. Eric felt a sting then a few droplets of something warm and thick trickling down the side of his face and dripping off his chin. The woman brought her hand to her again, her fingernail suddenly stained dark red. “Oopsie,” she said, though there wasn’t a hint of real regret in her face. She wiped her fingernail in her other palm, “Don’t worry, it won’t last. I wouldn’t dare to scar such a handsome face.” _

_ A few more drops dripped off his chin before stopping. The woman put a hand on his shoulder and ran it down his arm. _

_ “Though I am a bit disappointed,” she spoke again, “I served you that fish on a silver platter and yet you couldn’t even give her a little smooch. I expected more from you, princey,” she came closer to him, almost pressed against his chest. Her voice became low and almost sultry, “Oh, Prince Eric, Prince Eric. How easily things could’ve come about for you two, as easily as one teensy-weensy little kiss. But I suppose that doesn’t matter anymore. She will be gone soon and then it will be just you and me. At least for while, until you are not useful anymore.” _

_ Suddenly a loud sound interrupted their quiet environment. The woman stepped back, momentarily startled as a big sheepdog came running towards them and stood in front of Eric. Max barked and growled at her like he never had at anyone before, baring his teeth in an aggressive stance. The woman’s surprise only lasted a few seconds before she rolled her eyes with a bored air. _

_ “Get rid of the hairball before I do it myself,” she told him. Eric's head moved for the first time since the woman appeared. His eyes rolled in the same way hers had done. He really wanted the dreadful beast to shut up, the barks were so loud and annoying. He turned towards his dog and spoke with a voice that sounded so distant it was like hearing someone else speak. _

_ “Max, stop.” Cold, almost cruel, his voice was like the woman’s eyes. The dog stopped barking and turned towards him, whining lightly as he jumped over him to lick his face. Eric scowled and pushed him off, “Get out of here, now!”  _

_ Max let out a loud whine as if he had suddenly been striked, his eyes big and terrified under his bangs. He barked again and hurried towards the palace. _

_ Eric heard the woman laugh as she approached him once more. She was standing close to him again, close enough for him to detect a stale familiar smell, like a fisherman’s boat. _

_ “I can’t believe how easy this is!” she exclaimed mid-laugh, “Your mind is so weak, so easy to deceive, I barely have to do anything at all. No wonder you couldn’t see what was right in front of your nose. That poor, sweet child couldn’t have chosen a more foolish prince.” _

_ His eyes were set on her bare shoulder. He had never seen a sleeveless dress before, at least there was nothing similar in his hazy memory. Her bodice reminded him more of an undergarment with the way it hung tightly to her body and laced in the front. It was strange and unsettling. Everything about her was  _ strange and unsettling. A shudder ran through his body. Suddenly he  _ wanted to run away from there, as far as he could get… _

_ “Why don’t you look at me, handsome?” he heard her taunting voice. His head turned and he met her eyes. Those alarming, purplish blue eyes, so unlike the warm ocean blue that he missed very much. He wanted to see those eyes again. He wanted to go  _ to her.

His mouth opened and when he spoke again it was with his own voice, undistorted and real.

“You are not Ariel,” he whispered, just loud enough for the strange woman to hear him. Her smile disappeared, quickly replaced by confusion and aggressive fury. Her eyes flamed dangerously. She grabbed at his arms with a strength that was too great for her thin arms. Eric winced and his eyes widened with fear.

“Time to go to sleep, sweetcakes.”

_ He was walking down the halls of the palace, the sun had come out and he was suffocating. He felt himself unable to breathe past his constraining collar. Everything was too tight, his jacket, his cufflinks, the woman’s hand around his arm. He felt the pain of open wounds in the back of his neck and across his shoulders, though he didn’t remember getting hurt. He didn’t even remember getting dressed at all. _

_ He kept walking, his eyes set forward and his free hand firmly at his side. She was humming under her breath next to him, her tone high and melodious as if she were happy. Even though she walked so asurely, she wasn’t leading him, not really. In his mind he knew where he was going and she was only following him. He was getting married, he had to find someone that could begin the preparations as soon as possible because the wedding had to take place before sunset. He was looking for Grimsby. _

_ The old advisor was right at the bottom of the stairs in the palace’s Great Hall. He was talking with two uniformed guards with a deep frown and his hands tightly clasped behind his back. At his feet, a very agitated sheepdog circled around him in an anxious manner, barking and fiddling as though trying to get the men’s attention. Grimsby did not appear to be very concerned with the dog’s actions. He extended one calming hand. _

_ “Settle down,” Eric was able to catch the man’s worried words, “We’ll find him soon enough. And are you sure he was not at the tide pool? He goes there sometimes.” _

_ One of the guards shook his head gravely, “Completely certain, Sir Grimsby. We looked along the coast of the palace grounds. Nobody saw him.” _

_ “We should send a few men to look for him at the docks. Maybe-” _

_ “Grimsby,” Eric finally called their attention towards him. The three men were visible startled at his sudden voice, while Max became even more agitated. He started barking towards Eric, and more specifically towards the girl at his arm. _

_ “Eric!” Grimsby exclaimed, “Where were you? We have been looking for you all morning, and-” he paused and his frown deepened as his eyes fixated on Eric’s companion. A myriad of emotions crossed his features. There was surprise, confusion and disapproval as he looked over the woman from head to toe. His face became neutral before speaking, “Who is this lady?” _

_ The hand on Eric’s arm became tighter and the cacophony in his mind became louder. _

_ “This is Vanessa. She is the saved me from the shipwreck and she will be my wife.” _

_ Grimsby and the two guards were left speechless, while Max filled the silence between them with his ceaseless barking. The old advisor’s dark and shocked eyes bore into Eric’s in the way that he always did when he was trying to read into him, to fish out the truth from his mind. By the way that Grimsby frowned even more deeply, he could tell that for once he hadn’t found what he was looking for in the prince’s eyes.  _

_ The woman clutched at his arm again and Eric could feel her nails digging into his skin even through the several layers of cloth he was wearing. His jaw clenched. He was starting to become very irritated, by how long it was all taking, by the old man’s piercing gaze and the dog that would just not shut up. _

_ Grimsby finally found words to say but could do nothing but bumble. _

_ “Eric, what is- what is the meaning of th-” _

_ Eric’s patience finally ran short. “Can someone  _ please _ take the dog out before he bursts everyone's ear drums?” he exclaimed with exasperation. He turned towards the guards and gave them a black look, “You two, leave Sir Grimsby and I, and take the dog with you.” _

_ The guards seemed as shocked as Grimsby, even more so by the sharp and hostile tone the prince had used with them. After a few seconds, one of them finally reacted. He bowed. _

_ “Yes, Your Highness. We are glad you are home safe.” _

_ “Thank you for your service, Captain, you can go back to your posts now,” Grimsby said, his eyes still fixed in Eric’s impassive face. The two guards struggled to drag Max out of the hall. The dog kept trying to get out of their grasp and reach Eric, his barks turning into pitiful whines while the prince did not even look his way. As soon as the door was closed, they were mired in silence. There was an echoing ticking of a clock, and out the door they could hear the hurried steps of servants as well as Max’s distant barks as he was carried away. _

_ Grimsby looked over the couple that was in front of him and his expression changed into a rather dishonest face of fragile cordiality. He walked a few steps until he stood closer to them, his fingers tightly laced in front of him. _

_ “Eric,” he spoke again, his voice more stable than it was before, “Can you explain the situation, please?” _

_ Eric felt his irritation stir once more. The clock was ticking, they were losing time. “I think I was clear enough,” he said, “This is the woman I’ve been looking for, and I will marry her as I promised.” _

_ Grimsby raised one hand. _

_ “Yes, of course. But I would like to know how this came to be. How did you find her?” _

_ “You could say that we found each other,” the woman said sweetly and put one hand on Eric’s chest. Grimsby’s smile became even more forced. _

_ “I see, miss. Eric?” he questioned again, begging him with his gaze to respond. _

_ “I found her on the beach last night.” _

_ “I had been looking for him these past few weeks as he says he was looking for me,” the woman once again continued for him. Her voice was polite but the subtle tone behind her and the way her hand grasped his arm tighter and tighter betrayed her. She was becoming impatient. He had to get on with it. _

_ “There is no doubt in my mind that Vanessa saved me that night and my plans to marry her have not changed.” _

_ “Uh,” Grimsby’s cordial facade faltered as he seemed unsure of what to say. He looked from Eric, to the woman, to Eric again back and forth, as if he were trying to make sense of a very difficult puzzle in front of him. “Well, uh…” he hesitated again. Eric became conscious of how his brow started setting in a glare as a finger tapped his arm impatiently at the rhythm of the clock. After what felt like an eternity, Grimsby was able to pull himself together. His cordiality returned, though much more accentuated than before. “Well, Eric, I- it’s appears that I was mistaken. This mystery maiden of yours does - in fact exist. And-” Grimsby took the women’s free hand politely but his expression showed clearly how much he was struggling to keep that politeness. His words stalled before he could continue, then he forced the smile even more in his face, “And she is lovely. Congratulations, my dear.” _

_ Took you long enough. _

_ “We wish to be married as soon as possible.” _

_ Grimsby’s smile trembled and he quickly said, “Oh, yes, of course. But Eric, these things do take time. Maybe by next month we can-” _

_ “This afternoon, Grimsby,” Eric cut in forcefully, “I have already ordered the wedding ship to be prepared to depart at sunset.” _

_ “Oh,” Grimsby’s voice lowered to almost a whisper. His face swam in disbelief, “Oh, well, as you wish, Eric.” _

_ Eric did not bother to respond and he led the woman out of the Great Hall. He heard Grimsby calling after him as he followed them. Eric stopped the first servant he saw. _

_ “Fetch Miss Carlotta for me immediately,” he ordered. The servant, a young girl, hurriedly scurried away with wide, intimidated eyes to follow his command. _

_ “That tone was completely unnecessary. You scared that poor girl,” Grimsby scolded him, but Eric did not respond or even looked his way. He was too busy waiting for the moment the housekeeper came into view so they could get this over with as soon as possible. Just a few minutes later, two pairs of quick steps were heard around the corner.  _

_ “Eric!” The housekeeper’s eyes also showed shock as soon as she saw him, but unlike Grimsby, she did not let that stop her. She ran to him, another girl trailing behind her. “My dear boy, where were you? We looked for you everywhere and we couldn’t find you. And just look at the state of you, you are as pale as a corpse. Are you sick? Is everything okay?” _

_ Carlotta tried to put her hand on his face but Eric immediately moved out of the way. He did not have time for this, why did she have to prattle like a crazy hen? _

_ The housekeeper frowned at Eric’s gesture. She looked at him up close and put a tentative hand on his shoulder, “Eric, dear, what’s wrong? You don’t look very well.” _

_ Eric ignored her questions, “Vanessa and I will be married by the end of the day. I want you to be at her disposal and assist her in whatever she may need before the wedding.” _

_ Carlotta’s shock was immediate and much louder than Grimsby’s. Her hand fell limply from Eric’s shoulder, her eyebrows going up with incredulity. For a few long seconds, she couldn’t say anything, then she choked out, “What?” _

_ “I don’t think I need to repeat myself.” _

_ “B-but,” she stuttered, her eyes going wider and wider, “You cannot!” _

_ “It has been decided.” _

_ “Eric!” she exclaimed, “You can’t be serious. What, what about-” _

_ “This is an order and I will not be questioned, Carlotta,” Eric interrupted brusquely. The housekeeper’s bambling mouth flew shut. Her eyes went from Eric to the woman next to him, examining her with sharp eyes. It was obvious that what Carlotta found in her was not something she liked. She straightened her back and looked at Eric firmly. _

_ “No,” she declared, “Eric, you cannot be in your right mind and I will not do as you say. I refuse.” _

_ Eric's expression was not fazed, but he had an almost imperceptible feeling tugging at his mind when the following words came out of his mouth, a feeling telling him that something was wrong. It was silenced quickly as the woman’s grip tightened. _

_ “If you refuse to do your job, it won’t be hard to find someone that will do it in your place.” _

_ Carlotta’s firm stance faltered to give way to the hurt that Eric’s words caused her. She raised her chin and pursed her lips as her eyes began to water. She clutched her apron in her fists and turned towards the serving girl standing behind her. _

_ “Theresa, assist this lady,”—she said the last word as if it tasted sour in her mouth—“in whatever you may see fit. Now, excuse me.” _

_ With one last look towards Eric, she turned on her heel and walked down the hall until she disappeared around the corner. A few seconds passed before the serving girl could raise her eyes from the floor, avoiding the prince completely. She spoke to the woman in a shaky voice. _

_ “You can follow me, Miss Vanessa, I am at your service today.” _

_ The woman turned to Eric with a smile and gripped at his arm one last time before letting go completely. She reached to fix a crooked button from his jacket. “See you later, handsome. Think about me while I’m gone.” _

_ Her tone was sweet enough, so easily accomplished with that dizzying voice of hers, but her gaze told another story. Her words were more of a warning than flirtation. He found himself nodding. She smiled once more and followed the serving girl down the hall, her greyish purple skirt flowing around her with the light sway of her hips. As soon as she disappeared out of his sight, his mind quieted down abruptly. The only thing left was a low hum, a scale of notes repeating itself over and over again. _

_ Then he was walking, though he wasn’t really sure where he was going, only that she wanted him to be somewhere else for the time being. He found that maybe he wanted to be somewhere else as well, so he kept walking. _

_ “Eric,” a voice called him. Grimsby was still standing in the hallway, standing so still and quiet that his presence had gone almost unnoticed. Eric’s feet stopped in their tracks. “Come here.” _

_ He didn’t move from his place, and after a few seconds Grimsby took the hint and walked to him instead. He stood in front of him, frowning and with troubled eyes. _

_ “For God’s sake, unbutton your collar. I can clearly tell that you cannot breathe in that jacket, why are you even wearing it?” He was right, Eric was suffocating in that jacket and every breath was more difficult than the last, but his arms did not move to heed Grimsby’s advice and instead remained immobile at his sides. Grimsby pursed his lips at Eric’s lack of response, “We need to talk.”  _

_ “I think everything was clear enough.” _

_ “Well definitely not for me, it isn’t,” Grimsby scoffed, raising his nose in a defiant manner. “I refrained from saying anything in front of your guest, but we need to set this straight immediately. I very much need you to explain how you come here one morning just announcing that you are getting married to some girl, especially after-” _

_ “That is not a way to refer to the future princess, Grimsby,” Eric interrupted, “And it shouldn’t surprise you, I did swear that I would marry the maiden that saved me as soon as I found her.” _

_ “It does surprise me after our talk last night. I was convinced that you had made a decision. You even told me that you loved that girl, Ariel.” _

_ As if a cover had been put over it, his mind went completely blank. _

_ “I am marrying Vanessa, Grimsby, and that is the end of it.” _

_ He walked around the old advisor to get on his way only to be stopped again. “I am still not convinced. I know you, and I know that when you told me you loved that girl you meant it with all your heart. Please tell me what is truly going on because this is not you, Eric. And this is not only about your sudden desire to get married, but how you’ve been treating everyone since you returned to the palace. You have never talked to Max like that, the poor dog has been sick with anxiety since we realized that you weren’t here, and I still cannot believe that you said those things to Carlotta. She has been working here since before you were even born. What were you thinking? I want to know what happened to you since you found that woman because I know something is wrong.” _

_ His face had gradually become redder with his words while Eric’s remained the same, frozen and his features barely moving as he breathed calmly. His mouth opened and he spoke, _

_ “If that is all you have to say, you should stop wasting both of our time and instead begin the wedding preparations. Must I remind you that it must be ready before sunset?” _

_ Grimsby huffed with exasperation, “Are you even listening to yourself? We cannot prepare a wedding in less than a day! If you are so convinced of wanting to go ahead with this, I am sure you won’t mind waiting. At least a few weeks, we can see how this plays out, we will have more time to prepare and you can be more sure of your deci-” _

_ “Before sunset today, and it is not up for discussion.” _

_ “Think of everything a wedding entails. Think of the guests, and the bride’s dress, and the protocol we must follow for a royal wedding.” _

_ “I won’t repeat myself again, Grimsby.” _

_ “Think of your mother, Eric. She must have barely gotten news of the shipwreck in Gantrick, I am sure it would pain her deeply to miss your wedding. Wait, at least for her.” _

_ A breach, just a small tear in whatever was covering his mind, something the woman had not been prepared for. For just one second, his mind was suddenly flooded with familiar images that felt so far away and yet just barely out of his reach. Eric remembered his mother's brunette hair always braided and pinned up, her wide and heavily adorned dresses, her pretty face that had become plump with the years, and her blue eyes, so similar to his own, that could be sharp and commanding at times and melancholic at others. Eric suddenly really missed his mother. _

_ The next time he spoke, his words did not come out effortlessly as his previous ones had. His voice trembled, “It is an order, Grimsby, the wedding will take place today.” _

_ Eric then kept walking and this time he didn’t stop, even when Grimsby called his name repeatedly. For some reason, he had to be alone in that moment, away from anyone that could see him and recognize something in him. He kept walking without a pause, servants moving out of the way as he passed by. He only knew that he was going to the library. _

_ He was soon in front of the familiar door. For a fragment of a second, a blur of red and blue appeared in the corner of his eye. Something sparked in his mind and his head turned, but it flickered away as soon as he couldn’t find the splash of color that had caught his attention. He turned towards the door again and went inside. _

_ The library darkened as the door closed behind him, the curtains had not been opened and there was only an unlit lantern on the floor. Eric sat in one of the desks. There were books scattered around the floor and writing desks in what could be called a disorderly manner, but there was something warm about the scene that made his heart ache. In front of him there was a copy of ‘Legends of the Seven Seas’ with a single pink ribbon inside of it as a bookmark. Eric dropped the book on the floor next to the other ones. _

_ His mind was no longer loud, instead it had been swarmed with memories that only seemed to become more vivid as he took in his surroundings. The curtains used to be emerald, the painting of the port used to be on the opposite wall, there used to be a red cushioned chair with golden trimmings in the corner. The image of his mother’s face, however, was the most present of them all. It made Eric feel safe and he held into it because he felt like it would vanish along with everything else if he let go. His mother. His mother’s name was Amalie of Esmond, his uncle called her Lilie, which she hated. She was firm and regal in every sense of the word, but she was also a warm mother, warmer than many people thought she was. _

_ She was the first one to find him in the library. She was wearing a blue dress that looked black in the dark room and a sapphire necklace around her neck. She looked at him for a few seconds before sighing and slipping her hands off her white gloves. _

_ “Did he forget again?” she asked him. His mother’s voice had always been deeper than that of the average female.  _

_ Eric sniffed and hugged his legs close to his body. His father had promised he would take him to town with him, but when Eric had looked for him he was already long gone. Looking back on it, maybe he hadn’t forgotten, maybe he just hadn’t meant to take him in the first place. A few hiccups escaped his body. _

_ His mother sighed again and came closer to him. She pulled him to his feet, “Get up from the floor, darling, you’ll get your trousers dirty.” _

_ Eric’s neck was starting to hurt from turning his head towards the corner where the red chair used to be, but he kept his eyes there. His mother sat on that same chair with a book on her hand and settled him on her lap. He rested his head on her shoulder, the silver chain of his mother’s necklace digging into his forehead but he didn’t mind. His mother was safe and warm and he was very tired from crying and waiting for his father. _

_ She started reading in a low voice, just loud enough for him to hear. It was one of the fairytales she read to him sometimes, the one about the one-legged tin soldier who fell in love with a paper ballerina because he thought she only had one leg as well. _

_ “‘ _ She stood on tiptoe, _ ” she read, “ _ with her legs stretched out, as firmly as he did on his one leg. He never took his eyes from her for even a moment. The clock struck twelve, and, with a bounce, up sprang the lid of the snuff-box; but, instead of snuff, there jumped up a little black goblin; for the snuff-box was a toy puzzle. “Tin soldier,” said the goblin, “don’t wish for what does not belong to you. _ ”’ _

_ Eric’s interest was piqued when the exciting part started. There was an illustration of the goblin on the right page, a rather scary one. He hid his face on his mother’s chest but kept listening, because he liked the story. The tin soldier was then thrown out the window by the goblin and went through so much before he could return home to his loved one. He was almost lulled to sleep by his mother’s voice and by how comfortable he felt in her arms. He almost didn’t notice when servants came into the library asking his mother questions, or maybe they were actually asking those questions to him. Something about flowers, and guests and a military uniform, but he didn’t pay much attention to them. His answers were out of his mouth before they crossed his mind, not once taking his attention from his mother’s voice.  _

_ The tin soldier was finally back home after being swallowed by a fish. They were finally together, until the tin soldier was taken away from her and thrown in the stove by a child. _

_ “ _ ‘ He had no reason for doing so, therefore it must have been the fault of the black goblin who lived in the snuff-box, _ ” his mother kept reading, “ _ ‘The flames lighted up the tin soldier, as he stood, the heat was very terrible, but whether it proceeded from the real fire or from the fire of his love he could not tell.’ _ ” _

_ Eric’s chest felt like it was being constricted. He didn’t remember the story being so sad. The tin soldier had gone through so much, why couldn’t they be together? _

_ “ _ ‘Suddenly the door of the room flew open and the draught of air caught up the little dancer, she fluttered like a sylph right into the stove by the side of the tin soldier, and was instantly in flames and was gone. The tin soldier melted down into a lump, and the next morning, when the maid servant took the ashes out of the stove, she found him in the shape of a little tin heart. But of the little dancer nothing remained but a tinsel rose, which was burnt black as a cinder.’ _ ” _

_ Eric was about to cry. The ending was too sad and it was so unfair. Why did the little dancer have to be burned as well? How was it possible that from something so beautiful nothing would have remained except for a burnt rose? How would the tin soldier have felt, knowing that he couldn’t protect her?  _

_ He was young at the time, but he had later wondered how it would feel, to be completely consumed by love to the point where it was the only thing that remained of you at the very end. It scared him but also filled him with anticipation. _

_ He sniffed and his mother closed the book, putting it aside. She kissed his forehead and ran a hand through his hair softly. _

_ “Go to sleep, darling, tomorrow I will take you to play at the beach. I promise.” _

_ And she would, because his mother never broke her promises. _

_ He lay against her shoulder and closed his eyes while his mother hummed an old Vedhavet lullaby. He heard someone calling him but he didn’t want to move from his mother’s embrace, because there he was comfortable and safe and outside someone wanted to hurt him and burn little dancers into nothing but withered tinsel roses. He held tighter into his mother and she held him closer to her in return, as if she could sense the danger as well. Whoever was calling him became more insistent and it became harder to hear his mother’s hum as it started to swirl with everything else in his mind. _

_ “Your Highness,” someone whispered and shook his shoulder tentatively. Eric’s eyes remained on the corner of the library, but he couldn’t see the red chair or his mother anymore. His neck was sore, his back hurt from sitting so straight for so long and his leg muscles were cramped but he didn’t stretch or wince from the pain, he only turned to look at the person that was calling him. _

_ “Yes?” he told the serving boy that was standing in front of him. The boy hesitated and fiddled with his hands under the prince’s gaze. _

_ “Uh, sire, some of the guests have arrived and we will embark soon. Sir Grimsby sent me to look for you.” _

_ As a response, Eric only gave him a nod. The boy scurried away as Eric stood from his chair. Every single part of his body hurt which made him instinctively want to sit back down but before he knew it he was walking out the door. _

_ Everywhere he looked everyone was in movement and he could feel nothing more than anxiety brimming off everyone he encountered. It was like the mess in his mind had become a reality, with the way everyone was either screaming at someone else or hurrying to do what they were being told to do. Everyone was so busy not many people saw him walking among the chaos.  _

_ As he walked, he was able to catch a conversation between two servants, a boy and a girl who was either unaware of the prince walking behind her or too exasperated to mind her tone. _

_ “Oh, that wicked woman! I was about to choke her with a piece of silk myself,” the girl exclaimed. The boy chuckled. _

_ “What happened?” he asked. _

_ “She is the most impossible person I have ever encountered. She wasn’t satisfied with anything we offered her and kept finding faults in everything. ‘I don’t want it like this, I want it like that’, I can’t believe we even decided on anything with how picky she is. Louise still hasn’t finished her dress because of how long it took her to decide.” _

_ “Tell me about it,” the boy responded, “This is the third time I’ve changed the banners. She just detested the blue and green and demanded them to be changed.” _

_ “And don’t even get me started on how she treats everyone. She struts around as if she already owned the place, showing absolutely no manners or decency,” she let out a huff in frustration. “If only Queen Amalie were here.” _

_ “If Queen Amalie were here, Prince Eric wouldn’t be marrying her in the first place,” the boy quickly retorted, “I don’t know what got in his head today. Falling in love with a girl and wanting desperately to find her and marry her I believe, he has always been a dreamer and romantic, but this is completely out of character. I never thought Prince Eric would want to marry someone so ill-natured and catty. This is definitely not him.” _

_ “He has been acting quite strange. He went into the library hours ago and has not moved from there. When has the prince ever willingly stayed in the same place for more than thirty minutes, not to mention how hostile and bad tempered he has been towards everyone. That woman must have done something to him, I am sure of it.” _

_ “Did he really discharge Miss Carlotta this morning?” _

_ “I don’t know, it certainly sounded like it. Theresa was almost in tears when she told me what happened this morning, but I don’t know how much of it it’s true. I still cannot believe that Prince Eric would talk to someone like that, much less to Miss Carlotta. What I do know is that Miss Carlotta is not participating in any of the wedding preparations, she has been looking up and down for that mute girl. I heard she disappeared from the palace as soon as His Highness came in with his so-called fiancée.” _

_ “And I don’t blame her, that poor girl must feel so humiliated. I really thought Prince Eric would end up proposing after seeing him follow her like a lovesick puppy.” _

_ “I would very much prefer that girl marrying the prince. Yes, she was strange and even a bit unrefined but she was a good girl. Lord have mercy on us the second Miss Vanessa becomes the princess.” _

_ Their conversation ended as they moved aside to help other servants in their task while Eric kept walking down the hall. That was the moment the girl noticed the prince had been walking within earshot when she was complaining about his fiancée. Her hand flew to her mouth as she gasped with wide eyes. _

_ “Your Highness, I-” Eric did not stop to listen to her apologies. He didn’t actually care, none of the words they had said meant anything to him. _

_ He soon reached the Great Hall a footman opened the door for him and announced his arrival, making the small crowd that had accumulated there give a collective bow. The clamor of the servants was not present, though it had been replaced by deafening silence and piercing whispers. The Hall had become the waiting area for the nobles who would be able to attend his wedding. There weren’t that many, only the ones that lived close enough were able to receive the news and make it to the palace in time to embark the wedding barge. _

_ Grimsby was talking to two noblemen close to the center of the room and Eric joined in at his side. He knew the two men, but his faces and names swirled and blurred in his mind, as did all of the others in the Great Hall. Eric didn’t try to make sense of any of them and found himself bowing when he was meant to and nodding along the conversation. One of the noblemen, the short, big-bellied one with droopy eyes and a short neck, made a snide comment about his sudden wedding that should’ve offended him but he felt a big nothing as Grimsby tensed next to him and the other nobleman tried not to snicker. _

_ People approached him in groups, giving a deep bow before him and congratulating him for his wedding, expressing how happy they were that Vedhavet would finally have a princess. Their speech was filled with sarcastic remarks and backhanded compliments, though Grimsby pretended not to notice as he responded to their congratulations in Eric’s place. One of them, a lady, mentioned how it was a shame that the Queen, the Regent King and his children were all so far away and that none of his family members would be able to attend. Eric only nodded. _

_ None of them actually asked for his bride. They all knew they wouldn’t be able to see her until the ceremony, including Eric, as the tradition dictated. There was a chance she had already embarked and had been installed in the bride’s quarters aboard the ship, though Eric couldn’t be sure. _

_ Someone announced that they would be departing soon and Eric was moving again. He was walking down the steps towards the palace’s deck with Grimsby to his right and his two manservants close behind him. One of them walked unevenly, he noticed, struggling in the staircase and when going up the ship’s gangway. _

_ The air outside was hot thick with humidity, almost suffocating, and the sun was high in the sky, more towards setting in the horizon than not. Eric barely noticed when he was aboard the ship, or when he was taken to his quarters or when the ship began to move into deep sea. He had started to feel drowsy, a little dizzy, as if he was swimming in mud while everyone else swam in clear water around him. The movements of the two manservants around him felt much faster than they probably were. _

_ One of the servant’s hands kept shaking as they fumbled with the tightly fastened buttons of his jacket, while the other servant swiftly took out a white military uniform from a trunk and checked for any imperfection with sharp eyes. That servant in particular, the shorter one that limped around when he walked, kept looking at Eric, not like the other servants had been looking at him all day but more like the advisor had looked at him. With reproach and a hint of confusion. _

_ It took Eric a few seconds longer than it must have to fish a name out of his mind. Galen, he had been his manservant for a few years, and he hadn’t seen him in a while. _

_ Galen met his gaze and scoffed under his breath, looking away in what could almost be a roll of his eyes. _

_ “I barely returned from my leave of absence and I already have to prepare Prince Eric for a wedding,” he mumbled loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. The other servant’s shaky hands froze in their place and his eyes moved nervously. _

_ “Galen,” he whispered in warning. Galen did not listen to him. _

_ “I can’t be the only one that has been thinking it. A wedding in a day, utter nonsense.” _

_ Despite the taller servant’s clear panic, Eric did not say anything at Galen’s remarks and only remained silent and still as his royal blue jacket was finally completely unbuttoned. The relief he felt was not as satisfactory as he expected. The servant stood behind him and pulled his jacket off, then his vest, then his undershirt. He took a brusque intake of breath and dropped the shirt into the floor. _

_ “What happened to you?” he exclaimed with shock and almost fear in his voice. Galen looked up from the white sash he was spreading out with alarmed eyes. _

_ “What is it?” he asked. _

_ Eric felt a finger barely brush his bare shoulder. A jolt of pain ran down his spine and all across his upper back. The servant gasped lightly and said to Galen, “There are marks on the back of his neck and shoulders. I don’t even know what they look like but it’s all red and irritated. Are you okay, Your Highness? Do you need me to call a doctor? It looks painful.” _

_ It was painful, though less than it had been a few hours earlier. Now instead of cuts, it felt more like old bruises spread across his back. The pain seemed to be slowly slipping away. Slipping away. That’s exactly how he was feeling. Not exactly drowsy or dizzy, but like he was slipping away. _

_ Both servants had stopped their work and were looking at him waiting for some sort of response from him. Belligerent words came out of his mouth. _

_ “Mind your own business and get on with it.” _

_ His voice was becoming more like the sound of distant wind then that of his own voice _

_ The servants remained silent after that as they dressed him, only whispering to each other every once in a while. His undershirt was tucked into his breeches, his dark blue vest was fastened and his jacket buttoned all the way to his neck. Eric heard Galen sigh under his breath as he draped the white sash across his body and secured the golden epaulets on his shoulders. In what felt like a second he was ready and the two servants were folding his remaining clothes and putting them in the trunk. He would be escorted to deck where the ceremony would be taking place any minute. _

_ The servants were about to leave when suddenly the tallest one stopped and turned to face him. If remembering Galen’s name had been difficult half an hour earlier, placing a name to the youthful and slightly blurry face in front of him had been almost impossible. He remembered, barely, that his name was Biergh but nothing else. _

_ Biergh’s eyes moved from Eric’s to the floor and back again without saying a word, though it was obvious that he wanted to say something. His mouth opened and closed several times before he was able to choke out something. _

_ “Sire,” he said. To Eric it sounded like someone had spoken to him underwater. _

_ “Do you have something to say?” _

_ “I-” he hesitated again, looking back at Galen who was looking at him with a frown. _

_ “Biergh, what are you doing?” Galen hissed, but Biergh ignored him. He finally found the courage to pull his head up and speak. _

_ “Sire, if you excuse the impertinence, I think you are making a mistake.” _

_ “Biergh, I don’t think-” Galen tried to stop him again. _

_ “Galen was not here the past days, but I was, Your Highness, and I saw how special that girl became to you. We all did. I don’t know what happened since last night, but I don’t think this is the correct choice. Please reconsider it before it’s too late.” _

_ It obviously had taken the boy a great deal of courage to say those words and he was definitely nervous about how the prince would respond. He looked so scared. A wave of malice washed over him as he heard the clicking of heeled shoes hitting the inside of his head like the clapper of a bell. The sound of cruel laughter flew around his mind. _

_ Put the fool in his place. _

_ “Who do you think you are?” His voice was then so far away it was barely a murmur. “You are nothing but a mere servant. Have I been so indulgent with you that you think yourself capable of questioning my decisions? Keep your opinions to yourself and shut your mouth.” _

_ Galen rushed to Biergh’s side, who was looking at Eric with wide eyes, “Your Highness, he only-” _

_ “I am the Prince, Biergh,” Eric continued, “and you will treat me as such.” _

_ Both servants were so shocked by Eric’s sudden outburst that it took a few seconds for any of them to realize that the door to the groom’s quarters had been opened and a white figure was standing at the doorway. Galen was the first one to notice. He took a few steps back, dragging a still frozen Biergh with him. _

_ “Miss Vanessa, I’m sorry but you cannot be here.” _

_ The woman's white dress trailed behind her as she walked into the room. She had a smirk in her face, as if she had been told a very amusing joke, and a silver tiara had already been placed atop her head along with her veil. She looked every bit of a happy and lovely bride ready to get married, except her purplish eyes, which told a completely different story.  _

_ She was looking at him. _

_ “Miss, I ins-” _

_ “Leave us,” Eric’s voice cut Galen’s second attempt to usher the bride out of his quarters. _

_ “But, Your Highness.” _

_ “You heard him, leave us,” the woman said, her voice high and almost joyful. _

_ Galen and Biergh both hesitated, looking at Eric as if waiting for him to say something, but they only got a blank stare in return. They quietly bowed and walked out the door. _

_ All he could see was white. White dress, white veil, the points of white shoes peeking under the hem of her skirt as she walked towards him. He remembered white; angelic, ethereal white in the middle of a dark room, and it made him feel at ease for just a moment that was gone very quickly, because it was clear that this wasn’t the white in his mind. This white was like a blinding explosion of light instead of a soft glow. He didn’t want it near him. _

_ “Well, you are a prince after all,” she spoke and her voice, like everyone else’s, was barely audible for him, “I couldn’t have known with the rags you always wear. But this is more like it.” _

_ An arm clad in white fabric reached for him. The woman ran a pale finger over his epaulets. She said almost mockingly, “Why so serious, sweetcakes? This is a happy day. Smile for me, would you?” She didn’t actually want him to smile because not a single muscle in his face moved at her request. She gave a low chuckle and tugged at his white sash, pulling him closer to her, “Well I have always preferred the brooding type more, so this is fine.” _

_ The only thing that stood out of the sea of white that was clouding his vision was a golden shine that suddenly caught his attention. It was coming from the pendant that hung from her neck, a golden seashell that caught the sunbeams from his window and reflected them back to him in a spark. Unlike everything about the woman in front of him, that little spark was warm and inviting. He wanted to reach out and touch it, but his arms remained firmly at his sides. _

_ The woman continued her speech. _

_ “I never thought I would have such a grandiose wedding. All the esteemed nobility from your adorable little kingdom is already out there ready to see their prince getting married. A highly expected event, I heard. Good to know you were already clueless with women way before the little mermaid entered the picture. Oh,” she ran the back of her hand down his cheek, “But not everyone is out there, I suppose. I heard around that that housekeeper of yours is not here to see you get married, which I’m glad for, if you don’t mind. Dear old Carlotta –Carlotta was her name, right?– Well, she snooped around like some nosy old spinster. Always looking at me with those beady dark eyes, as if she knew something no one else did. Between us too,” she came close and whispered in his ear as if she was sharing an intimate secret. “I think she did. Such a shame that the only person intuitive enough to figure out that something is very, very wrong with their prince is not here to save you, but oh well, that’s how the water rises.” _

_ It was like a tiny sun, the small glimmer that, looking at it more, was actually swirling inside her necklace rather than dancing in the outer surface. It kept bumping on the inner walls of the seashell, from one side to another, as though it was trying to escape from it. _

_ The woman then lightly caressed the dry cut that she herself had inflicted on his face earlier that day. _

_ “It is also a shame that Ariel cannot be here to see this happy day.” _

_ Eric’s eyes went from the golden seashell to her face. He flinched at her words, almost imperceptibly, but she noticed. She smirked and raised a thin eyebrow at him. All of this seemed to greatly amuse her. _

_ “Little, headstrong Ariel. Quite a pretty girl, can’t really blame you for falling into the palm of her hand so easily in such little time,” she paused, looking over his face as if waiting for his reaction. “But you can’t remember her right now, can you? You can’t remember any of it. Sorry about that, princey, a necessary measure, I’m afraid.” She wasn’t sorry at all, in fact she was enjoying it. “But you see, after our little slip this morning I couldn’t just let her wander around your mind freely, I had to pluck her out manually to keep ourselves from having another incident.” She wasn’t blocking his view anymore. In a blink the blur of white was standing before his mirror, leaning into it. “I have to admit that I underestimated you at first, you are more resilient than I gave you credit for. If I hadn’t taken her away you could’ve had a chance of freeing yourself, a slim one, but a chance nonetheless. Don’t fret too much over it, though, this is for the best. You should actually be thanking me.” _

_ He felt a puff of air hit his face and he realized that she was standing close to him again, so close that that stale smell of hers hit him like a giant wave. Breaking the spell that seemed to have his body prisoner, an unsettling shiver ran down his arms when he was able to focus on her eyes. They were still amused, but they were mostly swimming in a cold and horrid cruelty. _

_ “Because I can make you remember her,” she said in a low voice as though she was answering a question he had made, “I can let you remember every single little detail about her like that,” she snapped her fingers, so loudly it seemed to boom inside his head, “I can stand back and watch as you cry and writhe in grief when you realize that you abandoned her, that she is about to lose her life and everything she knows because you weren’t strong enough to resist me. Because due to your own obstinacy and stupidity you couldn’t kiss her before I had a chance to put my tentacles around you. I could do it so easily, but,” she pulled away and gave an unsettling sweet giggle. She smoothed out the wrinkles on his sash with her hands, “I don’t want any runny noses and puffy red faces on my wedding, that is extremely unattractive, and as you can see I would actually be doing you a disservice. Isn’t this so much easier, handsome? Just slowly and peacefully slipping away like being taken away by the current? Don’t you feel like you are just falling asleep after a long day?” _

_ No, he didn’t feel like he was falling asleep, he didn’t feel peaceful. He felt like he wanted to explode, like he was about to break in a thousand pieces. He wanted to claw his own skin raw, to bang his head against the wall to relieve at least some of the pressure that was constricting his chest. Everything had hit him at once. After feeling like he was moving through quicksand and as if he was filled with cotton for he wasn’t sure how long, the sudden despair and impotency that hit him had almost blinded him for a second. He wanted to scream, he wanted to run away, he wanted to hide but he couldn’t move from his place, he could only stand where he was in front of that cruel shape of white and purple who was looking at him like someone would look at a bullet about to hit its target. She smirked and his chest started heaving abnormally, his fingers twitched. He  _ just, he _ really- _

He really wanted her back _. _

_ She let out a laugh as his breathing returned to normal. A small drop of something was slowly running down his left cheek. A tear, he had shed a tear. The woman reached her hand and wiped it with her thumb. _

_ “Now, what did I say about tears in my wedding, princey? Even a handsome face like yours will end up looking like a red slimy slug with enough crying.” _

_ No more tears fell from his eyes and he remained immobile. He felt dizzy again, but magnified by a thousand. He could barely focus on the woman in front of him arranging the tiara on her head and he knew it wouldn’t be long before he couldn’t understand what she was saying anymore.  _

_ She spoke again, and he did a last effort to listen. She was happy, satisfied with her outcome. _

_ “Well, this is where we say goodbye. The sun will set soon and as soon as nightfall comes I won’t need you anymore. Don’t take it personally, but the power I will have on my hands tonight topples any benefit I would get from being your princess, so you and your puny kingdom are not useful for me. I would say ‘See you at the aisle’, but I don’t think you will be seeing much shortly, Prince Eric.” _

_ He was falling down a hole, gradually being swallowed by darkness. There was no hope anymore, fighting would bring him nothing. It was over. Maybe being taken by the current was indeed much easier.  _

_ A hand gripped at the hair on the back of his head and a voice whispered sultrily, “Sleep well, my sweet prince.” _

_ Someone walked in the room and said something, but Eric could no longer hear and he could no longer focus his sight in anything. There was nothing left. Giving up was the easiest part. _

_ He walked out the door, and he was gone. _

* * *

_ When he was a child his mother would take him to the beach often, before he was old enough to venture towards the sea by himself. She would sit over a sheet as far as she could from the ocean, because to her, getting even her outing clothes dirty was unacceptable. But Eric didn’t mind being left alone. He liked submerging into the water and feeling the waves sway him around gently, it made him feel happy and like he never needed to come up for air. _

_ He almost drowned once. He went in farther than he should have and soon the waves became too powerful for him, but strangely, even as he was floating unable to feel the sandy seafloor under his feet, he didn’t feel the danger until the first gulp of water entered his lungs when he tried to gasp for air. And even then, once he was safe on land and his mother was both fussing and scolding him, he only felt annoyed because he wasn’t able to go as far as he wanted to go. _

_ He always wanted to go beyond the horizon. It was only a few years after that that he realized sailing was his best option. Sailing was good, he loved sailing, but even then he felt like there was somewhere a ship couldn’t take him to, somewhere he wanted to reach. Sometimes he just wanted to throw himself into the sea and hold his breath, see for how long he could just stay there, surrounded by the calm and quiet that it provided him.  _

_ Maybe that’s what had happened, maybe someone threw him into the sea and he was just floating in the deep. Maybe that’s why he didn’t feel restrained and the voices in his head had finally left him alone. He liked it, he could get used to it if he was going to stay there. There were no purple eyes, no bewitched tin soldiers and mute paper ballerinas– or was it bewitched paper ballerinas and mute tin soldiers? _

_ “...wfully wedded wife, for as long as you both shall leave?” _

_ “I do.” _

_ “And do you…” _

_ It was nice, he felt like he could even fall asleep if he wanted to, or if he wasn’t already asleep. Like he could just close his eyes and the sea would take him to a safe and familiar place, to safe and familiar arms. It was… _

_ Suddenly, a violent wave rocked him, except it wasn’t really a wave but a sudden burst of fury from within him. He was out of the sea and his feet were once again on firm ground. People were screaming and running for cover from the sudden commotion that was happening around them. It wasn’t ruined yet, she only needed to hold it for a few minutes more, but things were definitely not going as smoothly as she had hoped.  _

_ Of course they would try to help their little princess. _

_ “GET AWAY YOU SLIMY LITTLE-” _

_ That wretched dog had started barking again, pleased with what was happening. Birds were flying everywhere and out of nowhere the woman was soaked from head to toe and covered in algae. The uncontrollable fury was consuming every part of his body. The woman was now bizarrely being pushed around by seals and then thrown into the cake, successfully knocking it to the floor. A smidge of flying meringue landed on his sleeve. Some of the guests moved away from the mess, others were mortified and others were trying to hold in their laughter. _

_ The ridiculous old man was still reading from his book, oblivious to the chaos around him, while a seagull caught the string of her necklace in its beak and pulled it hard away from her. Now there was some panic growing into the fury that Eric felt. Something snapped, but it wasn’t the string of her necklace. Happy barks barely alerted her before she felt the sharp pain of canines biting into her bottom and thigh. _

_ A screech, a light snap, a crash, then silence. _

A sun, a small golden ball of light that floated in the air delicately. That was the only thing he saw before a piercing headache clouded his sight and made him press his hand against his forehead. Every limb of his body was in pain, he felt like his back had been slashed with a knife, and why was his collar so tight? He couldn’t even breath. 

He was about to bend over and vomit whatever was in his stomach when he heard it. Light and airy, first like a whisper and then so loud he could’ve heard it even if a war was raging around him. It was the voice, the sweet, melodic and ethereal voice he remembered from that day on the beach. There was no doubt, he could have recognized it everywhere. His heart stopped and his eyes flew open. He ignored the even bigger headache that the action brought him and searched desperately for the source of the voice. His eyes found the little sun again, still suspended in the air, but it was moving steady and with purpose towards something. Eric looked up, and suddenly the entire world disappeared.

She was there, beautiful as ever, her wet hair stuck to her face and her blue skirt moving with the wind. She looked exhausted and weary as the little sun floated towards her, but seeing her there brought him an immense sense of relief. He would’ve run to her in that moment if he weren’t too stunned, by her sudden presence, the familiar voice and the hypnotizing ball of light, to move.

The little sun floated up, now faster. All the eyes in the place seemed to be captured by it as it split into two and swirled around the redhead girl eagerly. With a last surge of movement, the golden light reached her neck and disappeared, but the voice did not vanish with it. Ariel’s eyes went wide and her hands flew to her throat. Her mouth opened and, as if it was the most natural thing, her voice came out clearly in a flawless scale of notes.

There it was.

He lost whatever breath remained in his lungs. Hearing a voice,  _ that  _ voice, coming out of her mouth was confusing and strange, but at the same time it wasn’t. It all made perfect sense, much more than seeing her mute ever did.

“Ariel?” his voice was weak and in desperate need of a gulp of water, but undeniably lined with joy and emotion. Her face broke in a big grin, the brightest he had ever seen on her, as a whirlwind of white and gray fur ran to her with enthusiasm, barking gleefully and jumping to lick her face. Max kept switching between fussing around Ariel and barking towards Eric. Even among his confused stated and overwhelming happiness, he wanted to slap himself in the forehead. Of course Max knew, of course his dog figured it out before he did.

Ariel barely paid attention to the happy sheepdog whose energy could’ve easily knocked her over. She only had eyes for Eric as her smile grew even bigger. Eric’s heart fluttered when she spoke again.

“Eric,” she said, her voice breathy with emotion. Eric could’ve cried in that moment.

“You can talk!” he exclaimed, barely conscious of what he was saying or that he was already running towards her. He didn’t stop to question anything, not why he was in a ship, not why he was dressed in his most formal clothes or why all those people were around him. He was confused and in pain but none of that mattered, because she was there and she had just said his name with that beautiful voice and  _ it was her.  _ How could he have been so blind?

It was all so clear now. His heart had recognized her as soon as he laid eyes on her, it kept trying to tell him that the girl he had been looking for was right in front of him but he had been too blind to see it. He had been so, so stupid.

As soon as he reached her he took her hands in his and brought her close to him. She was soaking wet, some droplets of water still dripping from the tips of her fringe, and despite her hands being as warm as ever, they were shaking as they clutched his gloved ones. She was breathing heavily as she took on his features, that smile never dropping from her lips.

“You are the one! I knew it! I knew it was you but I couldn’t believe it! You saved me that night!” Eric knew he was babbling and speaking much too fast for anyone to understand but he couldn’t stop himself. His chest felt like it was about to burst, unable to contain his pure happiness.

Ariel was in a similar state as him, stumbling on her words as she rushed to say, “Eric, I wanted to tell you but-!”

And Eric wanted to hear her explanation, he wanted to hear every single thing he had to say to him, but that could come later. Words could wait. Right now, he only wanted to hold her close and marvel in the fact that she was indeed in his arms. More than anything, he wanted to kiss her, no, he  _ needed  _ to kiss her in that instant. He quickly let go of her hands and reached for her forearms instead, bringing her close to him and lowering his face towards her. He couldn’t explain to himself the urgency with which he was acting, but she didn’t seem to mind. She let out a small sigh and closed her eyes placidly. His breath hitched as his lips faintly brushed hers, just the smallest contact-

“ERIC, NO!”

Ariel’s eyes opened wide and a strangled gasp escaped her mouth. Eric froze in shock as he saw her spine arch with a sonorous  _ crack _ and heard her let out a cry that could only be of excruciating pain. She looked at him with watering eyes before she fell to the floor like a marionette whose strings had been cut off. He quickly held onto her to stop her from hitting her head. At first he thought she had fainted, but it couldn’t be because she was still looking up at him and her hands were still holding tightly into his sleeves, and that didn’t explain the obvious pain that she had felt. Why was she in pain? What was wrong?

“Ariel, are-” he examined her for any visible injury, finally moving his eyes from her face down to her skirt. His words died in his mouth. Before he knew it he had let go of her, letting her fully fall to the floor, and he had stumbled back in something that was even stronger than shock.

“YOU ARE TOO LATE!”

He looked at her again, and suddenly all the pieces fell into place. Her almost comical confusion with common objects and basic etiquette, her distaste for seafood at that first dinner they shared, her endearing though strange clumsiness. Eric felt like he couldn’t breath anymore. He had looked for her everywhere, there wasn’t a single town or village that he hadn’t turned upside down in his search for her, and yet he hadn’t been able to find her. It was almost as if she had disappeared from the face of the Earth after that morning. He had been drowning in the middle of the ocean and he somehow had reached the shore alive, a girl wouldn’t have been able to drag him all the way to the beach with nothing more than her hands to pull him. Or at least, not a human girl. But Ariel wasn’t a human girl. Human girls didn’t have fish tails instead of legs.

A mermaid had saved him. Ariel was a mermaid.

A sudden strike of lighting made him finally take his eyes off the glistening emerald tail that slightly twitched from under Ariel’s skirt. He took on his surroundings for the first time since he had caught sight of Ariel. So many people were aboard the ship, mostly nobles he recognized from previous royal events and Estate affairs meetings, all of them either shrinking back in fear or frozen in their place. He could see Grimsby clutching a hand to his chest with wide, terrified eyes, and he could not see Carlotta at first glance. The deck of the ship was vastly decorated with flowers and royal banners. It was the flower arrangements that made him look twice. Vedhavet’s flower culture was too strict to allow any mistakes. White ranunculus were only used in weddings. This was a wedding, and judging by his attire it wasn’t hard to imagine who was the groom.

Looking up at the end of the aisle, it also wasn’t hard to find the bride. He saw a woman in a white dress dragging herself across the floor, a woman that he both recognized and was completely unfamiliar with. Her hair was a mess, her tiara was askew and parts of her dress were ripped, but she didn’t look even a tiny bit distressed. In fact she was laughing, a cruel, bone-chilling laugh, and looking at him with crazed eyes. Eric felt his legs go weak under her gaze. She was still laughing as she picked herself from the floor.

“YOU ARE TOO LATE!” She raised her hands and lightning struck around her. A normal person would’ve fallen to the floor shocked and unconscious, but obviously this wasn’t a normal occasion. Eric saw in astonishment and horror as the woman’s skin seemed to rip apart to give way to a corpulent greyish-purple body. The wedding dress fell in shreds as six black tentacles sprouted from her lower body and curled as if viciously gripping something.

Screams and gasps of terror came out of all the wedding guests aboard the ship. Eric could only stand frozen in fear as the monster crawled down the aisle towards him. The wounds in his back seemed to throb in pain the closer it got to him and he wanted nothing more than to run away. He winced when the monster reached him, but she didn’t even touch him. Instead she grabbed the small body that laid at his feet and held her under her arm like it was nothing.

She looked at him again and gave him a grotesque smile.

“So long, lover boy,” she slurred mockingly. Small hands clawed at its big arm and Eric saw her lips gasp for air and try to say his name before the monster dragged her overboard.

He finally snapped out of it.

“ARIEL!” he called desperately and he leaned over the board as far as he could without falling into the ocean, though he had a great desire to lunge himself into the sea as well. No matter where he looked, there wasn’t any trace of her or the monster that had her in her clutches. They had disappeared. She was gone again.

He ran a hand through his air and tugged at it with frustration. He struggled to breathe as panic took over his body. He didn’t know what to do, he couldn’t even think straight. He was still struggling to understand what was even happening, how he had gotten to that place, how Ariel could be a mermaid.

A hand grabbed his shoulder. He jumped and quickly turned to whoever had touched him with wide eyes. Grimsby was standing before him, pale as chalk.

“Eric, are you alright? Did that- that-  _ thing _ hurt you? What happened, can you hear me?” 

Eric could hear him, but the only words that went through his head were  _ Ariel, mermaid, danger. Ariel is a mermaid, Ariel is in danger, Ariel is in danger. _

_ Ariel is in danger. _

He was running to the boat before he had even decided what to do. 

“Eric!” Grimsby called after him, but Eric ignored him. He was taking off as many layers of clothing as he could. The golden buttons of his jacket flew everywhere as he ripped it off himself, not having enough time to unbutton it carefully. The blue vest ended on the floor as well as the white sash, and by the time he reached the boat he was only in his undershirt. Good, at least now he could breath.

By the time Grimsby catched up with him he had already lowered the boat into the rippling waves with speed and expertise that years in the sea gave him. Without hesitating for a second, he started rowing as fast as his sore body allowed him. He heard Grimsby scream at him from the ship

“Eric, what are you doing?!”

What  _ was _ he doing? How would he even find her in the vast ocean? What could he do against that horrible monster that took her away? He didn’t stand a chance, it was nearly hopeless.

And yet, he didn’t stop rowing, not for one second.

“Grim, I lost her once. I am not going to lose her again.”

* * *

_ There’s mermaids out there in the bottomless blue _

_ An’ it’s hey to the starboard, heave ho! _

_ Watch out for ‘em, lad, or you’ll go to your ruin _

_ Mysterious fathoms below  _

Eric rowed until he felt like his arms were going to fall off. The tide was becoming more aggressive every second and the sky was darkening not only by the progressing night but by the looming black clouds that covered any light remaining. It scared him, he knew he was putting himself in even greater danger than he could ever imagine but he couldn’t bring himself to stop or turn back. He had made his decision, what felt like a lifetime ago on the beach and just minutes before when he went after her.

_ Watch out for ‘em, lad, or you’ll go to your ruin _

_ You’ll go to your ruin _

Was he going to his ruin?

He had never been scared of the sea, not even on the instances when it had almost become his grave. It didn’t have a mind of its own, it only followed its natural course, and if it took someone’s life it was because that person had gotten themselves in the middle of the sea’s way, so Eric had never resented it. This time, however, it was different, because it wasn’t the sea itself, it was what was hiding beneath the dark waves. That is what made him shake like a scared child.

He wasn’t scared of Ariel or whatever Ariel was, ( _ a mermaid _ , he chided himself,  _ she was a mermaid _ ). He knew that Ariel was kind, and gentle and everything good in the world. There was no way that she had a single evil hair on her body, but the monster that had taken her was a different story. He still felt her hungry stare on him, it still made his body ache and made him feel like he was going to cry. He was terrified, absolutely terrified, but he was more afraid of what would happen if he didn’t try. He couldn’t let that monster take her away from the sun. She was being dragged to the dark and cold and Ariel didn’t belong there. He had to take her out. He kept rowing.

_ You’ll go to your ruin _

_ You’ll go to your ruin _

_ I tell you, Grimsby, I saw it. _

_ Oh, Eric, your imagination gets wilder and wilder. Careful, or they’ll start calling you Prince Airhead. _

And they had, but not because he believed he had seen a mermaid that day years ago, but because mermaids were a sailor’s belief and he hadn’t quite proved himself as more than a naive and capricious prince yet, because every morning after that he set his eyes on the horizon as the sun rose, expecting to see that flash of emerald again among the dark blue of the sea. He leaned in on the board while the sailors snickered around him, greatly amused by the prince’s fixation on seeing “the mermaid” again.

After a few days of nothing, he eventually gave up and forgot about it for the most part, crediting what he had seen to his imagination or a trick of the light, but there was something about the event that he was never able to quite forget. That desire to go into the deep from when he was a child and his pull towards the ocean solidified into something that he carried with him everywhere he went.

It was exactly that pull, stronger than it ever was, that made him realize that even if he wanted to he wouldn’t be able to turn around and return to land. In a sense, his fate had been sealed long ago. He had been looking for her longer than he realized.

He wasn’t sure for how long he rowed before he found it. There wasn’t any trace of sunlight in the sky anymore and the black swirling clouds were covering it threateningly. His arms were sore, his brow was covered in sweat and he was slowly starting to panic. He couldn’t see her anywhere, in fact he couldn’t see anything other than the rippling waves around him. He was starting to think that even if he looked all night, as he was planning to do, he wouldn’t be able to find her.

He stopped for a second, trying to catch his breath. The pain in his back had suddenly throbbed painfully and had sent shudders all over his body. Before he processed it properly, the pain made him look to the water, and like he had been expecting it, he wasn’t startled when he saw a bright golden light below the surface. He slowly stood up, taking the harpoon from the boat’s floor. Before he could hesitate, he took a deep breath and dived into the cold water.

He couldn’t see anything at first. It was only after blinking a couple of times that he could finally focus and the golden light he had seen from the surface. He angled his body towards it and went in deeper. The closer he got, the more the gashes in his back hurt sharper and his lung felt tighter against his ribs, as though willing him to return to the boat. Instead, he kept going until the light blinked brightly and bounced back from a big and black body and a head of red hair. The sound of a cruel gurgly, laugh travelled to him through the water. 

He stopped and wrapped his hand around the rope in the harpoon, pulling it towards him. From his position, he was able to recognize Ariel’s thin body launching itself at the monster’s neck in a brave but futile attempt to bring her down. The monster easily pulled her off herself and threw her against a nearby rock, pointing the prongs of the spear she was holding directly at Ariel’s chest. A blazing fire burned inside of Eric. Faster than lighting, he held the harpoon at eye-level and released the rope. The harpoon flew through the water like an arrow and grazed the monster’s arm, close enough to open a deep cut but far enough so that it wouldn’t hit Ariel.

The monster’s head snapped back and she snarled like a wild animal.

“You foolish human!” she growled.

Ariel’s horrified eyes found his. Her voice came to him similarly to how the monster’s laugh had, muffled, exactly as he imagined sound underwater would be. “Eric! Eric look out!”

Once he made sure that the monster had seen him and her attention was taken away from the mermaid, he finally swam to the surface, desperate for air. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled and he didn’t need to look back to know that something was following him. He kept his eyes on the approaching surface and the bottom of his boat while his lungs screamed at him to get out of the water immediately. Even for someone like him who had spent half of his life on the sea and could hold his breath for an unusual amount of time, the depth and time he had been underwater were becoming too much. 

He recognized the painful tightness from when he was a child, the one that meant that he was running out of time before he took an involuntary breath. He flung his arms and legs faster against the water. He barely registered the popping his movements were causing on his right ankle and how increasingly aching it was becoming. With a gasp of relief he breached the surface and clung into the boat. He took one, two breaths and then he was being dragged back into the water. So quickly he didn’t know when it happened, two snake-like and oddly strong creatures were wrapped around his upper body and leg. Moray eels, he recognized. Horrifying creatures, he had always despised them and would’ve chosen many things over seeing one so up close. 

However, what was scaring him the most at the moment was not the sharp teeth that were too close to his face and resembled a smirk too closely, or the unsettling uneven eyes, one of which shined a bright yellow. The terrifying part was that they were holding him so tightly he could not free himself, and that they were purposely dragging him deeper into the ocean with the very clear intent of drowning him. He struggled against them, pressing his lips tight to stop any water from entering, but the surface was only becoming farther away and the air in his lungs was running short.

The eel that was closer to his face snapped its jaws at him and wrapped itself tighter around his torso. Eric’s lips almost unsealed but he fought against the instinct of gasping for air. The hold the other eel had on his leg got tighter as well and Eric tried to set it free by swinging it wildly back and forth. He felt a crack in his ankle and pain shot up his leg, so sharply he wouldn’t have been surprised if his foot had come out of its place. Taken back, Eric exhaled brusquely and a few bubbles of air came out of his mouth. That was the breaking point, fear overwhelmed him. A primal instinct took over as he started struggling with more force despite the pain. His head started clouding over and he could only hear distorted screaming as his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

Then one of the eels hissed and the other seemed to be struggling against something. Whatever it was, it made them both loosen the hold they had on Eric’s body, letting him escape and instinctively swim up the surface. He caught a glimpse of a bright colored fish out of the corner of his eyes, but he didn’t bother to think much of it, nor of the ray of hot light that barely missed him or the strange scream that followed it. He only swam as fast as his body allowed him until he once again reached the surface and he was able to breathe again.

It took a few seconds and a couple of deep breaths for his head to clear up. The sky above him was now a threatening tone of dark purple and the force of the waves was increasing in intensity, swaying him around as he tried to recover. Once there was enough oxygen inside of him and he was able to think a coherent sentence he finally remembered what he was doing there, and that the ordeal was not yet done. She was still down there, they both were.

He filled his already aching lungs with air and just as he was ready to dive into the ocean again, like a small flame floating above the water, a head of red hair surfaced. He was so relieved he could’ve cried. He tried his best to swim towards her, though she reached him faster than he could’ve ever achieved. Her blue eyes, those beautiful eyes of hers, were wide and terrified and she looked on the verge of crying, but she was in one piece and, as far as he could see, physically unharmed.

“Eric, you have to get away from here,” she told him in a low but panicked voice. Her wet hair stuck to her hair, very much like when they had both fallen off the boat at the lagoon. Had that only been the day before? 

Ariel pushed him towards the boat that was slowly drifting away. “Go, now. She’s furious, you have to get away from here,” she repeated, as though he hadn’t heard her the first time. Eric took her hands to stop them from their attempt of pushing him away.

“I am not leaving you here,” he said, his head shaking. He was still mildly out of breath, and his voice trembled slightly, but his stance was firm. Her eyes looked up at the sky as thunder rumbled like a threat. When she spoke again, there was even more panic in her voice.

“Please, go.”

If they were in a different situation, maybe he would’ve laughed because what she was saying was utterly ridiculous. What on earth had he done to make her believe that he would abandon her? He shook his head again and brought her into his arms, as if he could protect her that way. She was trembling but her bare and damp arms were not cold to the touch.

“I won’t leave you,” he said again, both gently and decisively. 

Thunder rumbled again and lighting struck across the sky illuminating the dark looming clouds. He didn’t have time to think of a plan, some way he could take Ariel out of there. The monster hadn’t taken long to make it known that it wasn’t over yet. He felt it first on his feet, like a platform floating up the surface, and then a spike was growing between him and Ariel, something that felt both smooth and slightly porous under his hands. 

His eyes widened when whatever was rising did not stop at the surface but rather kept going up bringing him and Ariel along with it. Cold wind hit his face and that same bone-chilling laugh reached his ears. When he looked down he could only see gigantic tentacles swinging against the water. His soul almost left his body when he realized what was happening. The monster was actually growing in size, and they were sitting atop her head, right on the golden crown she was wearing.

The monster kept laughing and Eric was frozen in his spot, holding tightly into the golden spike. They only kept going up as the monster kept growing and he couldn’t think of a single thing to do. He snapped out of it when Ariel put her hand over his. The spike only let him see her face, but it was enough to make him understand. He had never needed words. He wrapped his fingers tighter around hers and looked down. It was a long fall, one that could kill him if he didn’t do it correctly. Were mermaids somehow immune to the impact of water at a great height?

Ariel didn’t seem to be having those thoughts, she only tugged at his hand and said a short “Head first,” before diving. Somehow, he had dived with her as well. 

_ Head first, head first, head first _ , he repeated in his head as they both fell. He felt like his heart was going to come out of his mouth and like he was falling for much longer than he probably had. Just before they reached the water, Ariel let go of his hand and he was able to successfully break through the water as she had instructed. To his great relief, he was still conscious and he didn’t break anything that wasn’t already broken.

And Ariel was fine as well. She quickly pulled him up out of the water with much more strength that her body seemed to possess and she wrapped her arms around him, trembling. She was looking at something in front of them, her eyes wide. Eric knew what she was seeing, and he didn’t want to look, he didn’t want to see what the monster had turned herself into. But he looked. He held Ariel tighter when he was able to fully grasp what was in front of him, something out of his most horrible nightmares. The monster was bigger than a ship, with tentacles so powerful they could probably choke an elephant if they tried. She was holding a three-pronged spear in her hand. A trident, he recognized, like the one depicted in the paintings of Poseidon. And she was laughing, a horrible, horrible laugh that made him want to sink into the ocean so he wouldn’t have to hear it.

Her eyes glowed gold, along with the trident in her hand.

“YOU PITIFUL, INSIGNIFICANT  _ FOOL! _ ” her voice boomed, like it was as much thunder as the one that was rumbling in the sky. Eric could only hold Ariel tighter.

The monster raised one of her tentacles, the one that was closer to them and swung it back towards the water, directly over them.

“Look out!” Eric screamed and pushed Ariel along with him as he dived underwater. They were both propelled forward as they narrowly escaped the impact from the monster’s tentacle. Some water went up Eric’s nose making him hurry up to the surface again. He didn’t let go of Ariel’s hand so as to not lose her in the current, though it was becoming more and more difficult by the second. He coughed out water as soon as he reached air, struggling to breathe. 

“NOW I AM THE RULER OF ALL THE OCEAN!” the voice of the monster reached his ears, making him even more choked up. Ariel looked worried and briefly put a hand on his cheek as she looked over his face. The next second, she was being snatched from his grasp by a current that ended up being stronger than him.

“ _ THE WAVES OBEY MY EVERY WHIM! _ ”

Ariel screamed his name as she struggled against the wave that was carrying her away. Eric tried to swim after her but was stopped as the point of a tentacle wrapped itself around his midriff and lifted him up in the air. He saw Ariel disappear under the water when a big wave crashed over her. 

“Ariel!” he shouted after her and struggled against the black tentacle to no avail. He was lifted higher into the air, even higher than when he had been perched on the monster’s crown. “Ariel! Ariel!” he kept screaming. The monster held him at eye-level, too close to her face. Her eyes glowed a pale yellow and she smirked, showing her teeth that were not quite fangs but were as menacing as those of the eel. Eric stopped struggling and his voice died in his throat. He heard a voice in his head.

_ Time to go to sleep, sweetcakes. _

And like he was nothing more than a small pebble, something that was not interesting anymore, the gigantic monster threw him away into the ocean. He let out a choked cry as he flew in the air and crashed into the water with a painful splash.

* * *

His first thought was that he was dead. He was definitely dead. Death had brushed him far too many times in just the past hour that it was only bound to take him sooner or later. He was swaying in the water and his entire body ached, so much that he only wanted to keep his eyes close and keep dying if that’s what he was doing.

The feeling of wanting to come out for air made him realize that, no, he wasn’t actually dead, but he had definitely fallen into a shock. His entire being had blacked out for a good couple of seconds when he fell into the water but, surprisingly, he was still very much alive. He swam up the surface, mostly out of the minimal smidge of self-preservation he had left. Out in the air, the world was still ending. Lightning shot across the sky and a torrential rain had started to fall. He couldn’t see Ariel anywhere but the monster was still in plain sight. The water was also strangely not moving him as the current usually would. Even without him making a single effort, he kept going forward, in a big circle. A whirlpool, he realized, something he had only heard of but never truly seen.

All around him, all kinds of objects floated up from the bottom of the sea, most notably sunken ships in various stages of decay. Eric kept looking around, trying to find Ariel in the chaos while staying afloat, so focused that he only saw the ship that had creeped up behind him for a second. That second was enough. He dived as deep as he could to avoid being hit by the ship and he felt like his brain had become perfectly clear for the first time that day.

The ship was in good enough shape, with only a few missing and broken parts here and there. It was floating as a ship should and it must have been a recent shipwreck because the wood seemed to be holding up. By the looks of it, if the wheel was still in place, he was sure he could navigate it. Most importantly, the end of the bowsprit was broken, something that would’ve never been allowed in a functioning ship because of what little support it would give to the forestays and how overall dangerous it was… He had an idea. A very bad, dangerous with a large margin of error idea, but the only option he seemed to have.

He was going through with it. As fast as he could, he grabbed hold of one of the ropes the ship was dragging behind it in hope that it would help him come aboard. He couldn’t feel pain anymore, his body seemed to have numbed it completely as he got moving. Fortunately, the rope was sturdy and it helped him climb all the way to the deck, and once his feet were on wood Eric felt confident in himself. Sure, everything was unstable and big waves kept crashing and flooding the deck but it was familiar. It was not much different to a storm. He had been through it already, not even a month earlier, and he had survived, the entire crew had survived. He could do it.

He ran across the deck, fighting against the rain, the wind and waves that kept trying to knock him down. Even if he fell, he got right up spitting out and rubbing saltwater out of his eyes. Like a miracle, he reached the wheel which was still in its place and functioning, to his immense relief. Eric took a deep breath and grabbed the wheel, stabilizing the ship with expertise. It wasn’t perfect and he felt like he could lose it any second, but for once, he was in control and that pushed him forward.

The monster still held herself up, laughing as if the entire disaster she had created greatly amused her. She was looking down at the center of the whirlpool while she held the golden trident like a musket, shooting rays of light towards the bottom of the sea. The scene reminded him of the time he had visited the Kingdom of Praidian when he was a child. The Young Prince of Praidian was around his age, a wicked little boy who’s idea of fun was to repeatedly shoot chickens and rabbits while they ran around inside a pen, terrified and unable to escape. He shot them until they fell dead while he laughed. Eric had run crying to his mother, shouting that he never wanted to play with the Prince of Praidian again.

For a terrifying second, Eric saw Ariel at the bottom of the whirlpool like one of those rabbits. With no escape and defenseless against the sadism of a monster. His hands clenched around the handles of the wheel and he felt a surge of both determination and rage. That monster might be controlling the ocean, but this was his ship and that was the girl he loved.

His eyes narrowed in concentration and he mapped a quick plan in his head. If the monster still hadn’t noticed him by the time the whirlpool took him back to her, he would only have to do a swift turn at the last moment to hit his target.

He counted in his head. One, two three…

The monster stopped her attacks and looked down at the whirlpool with a big grin on her face. She had a crazed and almost hungry look in her eyes that made Eric’s stomach turn. He focused on keeping the ship stable against the waves, refusing to let it affect him.

Four, five...

The trident started glowing with more intensity in the monster’s hand. Eric braced himself.

Six…

The monster let out a cruel final laugh and raised the trident over her head.

“ _ SO MUCH FOR TRUE LOVE! _ ”

Seven.

Eric turned the wheel with all his strength and impaled the monster with the sharp end of the broken bowsprit.

It was… awful, and perhaps for his own good, he wouldn’t remember much of it later. He heard the screaming and briefly saw the blood, black as ink, gush out of the newly inflicted wound. The monster, face still contorted in an expression of surprise and agony, started to sink into the ocean, both her body and twisting tentacles dragging the ship with them. In almost a daze, Eric jumped out of the ship into the suddenly calm waters before he could sink with her.

Then he swam without stopping for one second. He wasn’t sure where he was going or for how long he would be able to go, he only wanted to get away from there. He was crying, he had to be.  _ A prince doesn’t cry _ , his father told him once, but he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop swimming, and he couldn’t stop crying.

* * *

The sky was pink, a pretty pastel color with swirls of blue and purple. Although, he was pretty sure that he must have been imagining the swirls, because the sky didn’t normally look like different colors of liquid paint mixing together in a bucket. 

Every single part of his body was in immense pain. His ankle was throbbing, his head felt like it was about to explode and he had to have at least one broken rib. Every breath he took was painful and like being shot to the chest. His eyes kept shutting close and he would’ve been more than happy to give in and just sleep for a very long time. But he couldn’t, he wouldn’t let himself fall asleep or even close his eyes for too long. He was waiting for her.

Would she come for him? She would, he told himself, of course she would. If she had survived she would look for him. If. He didn’t even know if she was still alive. Maybe he would be waiting there forever, or until someone found him lying in the sand, mangled up and nearly dead. Maybe she was down there, lifeless at the bottom of the ocean, never to see the sun again. 

No. He had to stop thinking that. He had to believe that somehow she was okay. If she didn’t come to him, he would look for her to the ends of the Earth, if not to get her back, at least to make sure she was alive and well.

So he waited, fighting against the pain and the unconsciousness that threatened to take over him. He felt the situation all too familiar. He was once again laying on the shore, seeing the morning come peacefully, as if chaos had not reigned just a few hours earlier. Sometimes his eyes would close without him realizing, and it was becoming every second harder to keep them open. Behind his closed eyelids, he could see her as he remembered her, dancing in the square with a big smile in her face, hunched over a book, surrounded by fireflies. Those memories were more pleasant than the uncertain present, but he willed himself to stay in it.

The sky became pale blue as the morning advanced and Eric kept his eyes in the clouds that moved over him. Was it his imagination, or were those clouds swimming like fish across the sky? It was calming and the gentle breeze on his face felt almost like a caress, making him feel so comfortable he really just wanted to fall asleep...

He froze.

It  _ was _ his imagination, and someone was definitely caressing his face.

He forced his eyes to open abruptly.

He saw her eyes, uneasy and beautiful as ever, and he had never felt more relief in his life. He parted his chapped lips and spoke in a rough voice.

“Ariel?” he tried to raise his hand to touch her, to assure himself that she was really there. He blinked, just once, and she was gone. It happened all so quickly that it took him time to react. It occurred to him that maybe he had lost the small amount of sanity that he had left and she had only been a trick of his mind. But after painfully raising himself from the sand he was able to catch a glimpse of a green-scaled tail disappearing under the water, so fast he almost missed it.

_ Oh no, not again _ .

He was convinced that, with the amount of times his body pushed through pain and injury to keep him going as if nothing happened, he wouldn’t be able to get out of bed for the rest of his life. Somehow he found the strength to not only get up, but also to tumble into the sea and swim after her. He swam well into the shelf sea, until his feet couldn’t reach the sea floor under him. He wasn’t sure how he did it, or how he caught up with her. She was fast, incredibly fast. Maybe she actually had wanted him to reach her, or she hesitated, because he could tell that she could’ve easily left him in the dust if her mind had really been into. However it happened, he was able to grab her hand and stop her before she could go farther. She turned around and she faced him.

In that moment, Eric saw her,  _ really  _ saw her for the first time since she saved him from the shipwreck. Her red hair floated like a halo of fire around her face, and her eyes, so peculiar on land, looked perfectly in place surrounded by the blue ocean. She moved underwater the same way that she walked, graceful like a feather floating in the air, or more accurately, exactly like a creature of the sea would carry herself in the water. Her tail looked strong like a dolphin’s and it caught the dim sunlight that seeped through the waves, making it glisten like a thousand emeralds. Was it inappropriate to stare at it so fixedly? Because he couldn’t take his eyes away from it, he couldn’t take his eyes away from her. 

She was, in the simplest words, absolutely beautiful. She was so, so beautiful, he almost forgot he had to breathe, he could’ve stayed down there looking at her until his lungs ran out of air and even then he wouldn’t have bothered to come out. Fortunately, she did. She gripped his forearms and pulled him up into the air like she had done the night before and, he supposed, like that first night they met.

Her eyes were avoiding him, she was looking at everywhere except him like she was in a very awkward situation. He, in return, couldn’t stop staring at her.

“Where are you going?” He was the first one to speak. Ariel didn’t respond immediately and she kept avoiding his eyes. A few seconds passed before she said a word.

“You are hurt,” she told him, a small crease forming in her brow. His heart fluttered at the sound of her voice.

“Yes, I suppose I am,” Eric said almost offhandedly. His ankle was killing him and breathing was once again painful, but he was much more preoccupied by trying to find the freckles that had appeared in Ariel’s face the day before. They were nowhere to be seen and if he was honest, it broke his heart a little.

When it was made clear that Eric was not planning on moving, Ariel took his hand and pulled him towards a nearby rock. Painfully he lifted himself and sat on it, every single part of him thanking him for not having to keep him afloat anymore. She didn’t follow him and stayed in the water instead, holding the edge of the rock with her hands.

They were silent once again, both of them apparently out words. Ariel kept her eyes down while she fiddled with her fingers against the rock. Her shoulders were slightly hunched, drawn into herself, and her wet hair falling on her face and stopping him from seeing her face well. It worried him. Of all the things he imagined, he wouldn’t have ever taken Ariel for being so quiet and meek. She had been louder when she couldn’t speak than her present lackluster demeanor was, something had to be wrong.

He quickly realized that he would have to do the talking. It should’ve been easy, after all that’s what he had been doing the past two days, but in that moment he found it extremely difficult.

“Are you alright?” was the first thing that came to his mind. She only nodded, still not looking at him. “You are? You are not hurt anywhere? You don’t feel any pain?”

She rubbed her arm as though she were cold, but he sensed it was more of a gesture of diffidence. “I am okay, really. Don’t worry about me.”

Her voice was still barely above a whisper, but at least she was speaking. If only she would look at him.

“You are a mermaid,” he blurted out, then chided himself for how tactless he must have sounded. Ariel still wouldn’t look at him when she replied.

“Yes. I am.”

“A mermaid,” he said again. Finally away from the danger, he allowed himself to be rightfully bewildered by the situation. “Like in the myths and the sailors’ stories?”

“Well, our tears don’t really turn into sea glass, but I suppose so, yes.”

“God.”

Silence again. Eric wished he knew how to keep conversation going, but it was all so bizarre that he felt as clueless on what to say as she seemed to be. It wasn’t that they didn’t have something to talk about, the tension and the feeling of words just wanting to come out was palpable between them, but neither of them knew exactly how to start. He just wanted her to, for the love of God, stop drawing into herself like she was trying to make herself as small as a mouse. It was almost unbearable.

He was about to say something, anything really, but for the first time she beat him to it.

“Eric,” she said. There it was, his name on her lips again. She took a deep breath and finally looked up to meet his stare. Her eyes were wide and filled with what could only be an immense guilt. “I’m so sorry.”

Eric’s chest tightened and his face softened. “Why are you apologizing?”

Ariel chewed on her bottom lip nervously and she seemed to struggle to keep her head up, but she did.

“I’m sorry. I lied to you and I made you get hurt. It wasn’t fair, to get you involved in all of this without even stopping to think of how you would feel. I should have never come here.”

“Don’t say that.”

“But I mean it. I acted like a foolish child, I should’ve known better than to go and get myself tangled up with the Sea Witch and now I made a mess of everything and put everyone in danger,” she dropped her face into her hands with a frustrated sigh. A couple of seconds passed before she raised her head again and breathed deeply. When she spoke again it was louder and her tone had gained strength. “What I mean to say is, I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve brought you and I understand if you hate me and don’t want to have anything with me or our kind. That is all I wanted to say.”

Eric thought of many things he wanted, and yet the only thing that he could do in that moment was laugh under his breath with almost disbelief. Ariel went quiet and she looked at him with confusion and a slightly pink tone in her cheeks.

She frowned. “What is so funny?” she asked him almost defensively.

Eric bit back a smile, “I’m sorry, I am not laughing at you. I find your  _ words _ funny.”

“I don’t think I understand.”

“Ariel,” he allowed himself to laugh again. He took her hand, relishing on the familiar warmth that, unlike her freckles, had not gone away. “You sweet soul, there is nothing you could ever do that would make me hate you. How could I possibly hate you? You have made me nothing but happy.”

Ariel let out a brittle chuckle, but didn’t take her hand from him. “Except for the part where you almost died last night.”

Eric laughed again and gently tugged at Ariel’s hand to bring her closer to him. 

“Well, we could’ve done without the- whatever tried to kill us yesterday.”

“The Sea Witch,” Ariel offered.

“The Sea Witch,” he repeated, though he would’ve preferred if he hadn’t gotten a name. Remembering the events of the night before was hard, but he knew that it had been terrible and he didn’t want to remember. He pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind and ignored the shivers that ran down his spine, opting for not mentioning a word to Ariel. He focused on her expectant face that waited for him to continue. “But despite it all, I wouldn’t have it any other way. If all of it meant that you would be here, I would do it all over again.”

Little by little, her face was regaining color and the sparkle in her eyes was returning. She slightly raised herself to come closer to his face with wide eyes. “Do you really mean that?”

“With all my heart.” The sun was rising in the sky and its sunbeams caught in her hair, giving her an ethereal halo of light. He was overwhelmed with how much he wanted her to stay with him. “Listen, Ariel,”—he slightly brushed her face with his finger for no particular reason, only wanting to feel her—“I may not understand everything that happened the past days, but what I am completely certain about is that I don’t want to lose you. Not today, not ever. I want to be with you, however that may be, if you want to be with me as well.”

Ariel seemed to hesitate. “Even if I’m a-”

As if it had been called, her tail floated up the surface and flicked against the water. Eric looked at it for a moment.

“I know,” he said, turning back to her, “and I can’t tell you that I have an answer, but we’ll figure it out. Maybe not now, but we will. I am not willing to give you up quite yet.”

A small smile formed on Ariel’s mouth and she raised herself even higher, up until her upper body was completely out of the water. Eric felt himself blush as she came closer.

“Fins and all?” she asked teasingly, though he came to the realization that her joy was not absolute. She was still upset about something, he could see it on the corner of her lips and deep into her eyes. He quickly went through the time he had spent with her and it occurred to him that maybe he was not the sole reason for wish to be in land. He stored the thought away for later. One problem at a time.

He leaned in, until their foreheads were almost brushing. “Fins and all.”

“Completely sure?” She was still teasing, but he was completely serious when he answered.

“There is nothing in this world that could’ve kept me from loving you.”

Two things happened at once. Ariel’s eyes went wide and her breath hitched at his words, her mouth opening like she was about to respond. At the same time, as if it was only waiting for him to say the word, a trail of golden light made its way towards them. He shuddered at the sight, the light too similar to the one in his vague memories, but this light was different from the one he remembered. It wasn’t aggressive and threatening, but rather gentle like a firefly, like a candle in the darkness and Ariel’s light. It moved gracefully through the current with grace like liquid gold until it reached them. With a confused expression, Ariel fell back into the water as the light enveloped her completely.

Four long seconds passed before she came out again. Her face was frozen and she was taking deep breaths but she didn’t appear to be in pain, only extremely startled. Eric leaned in carefully.

“Ariel? Everything okay?” 

She didn’t respond. Slowly and beautifully, a full and bright smile started forming in her face. She looked from side to side until she seemed to find something behind him. She looked like she was on the verge of tears, but her eyes were brimming with joy.

“Daddy…” she whispered under her breath, her voice filled with emotion.

“Wha-” Before he could turn to find where her gaze was set, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him off the rock and into the sea with her. He fell into the water unceremoniously causing several of his body parts to ache. He rushed to get his head above the surface and winced at the pain in his ribs. Maybe not broken, but something was definitely not in its right place.

“Oh, sorry,” Ariel apologized, putting her hands on his shoulders. He could still hear that big smile on her voice. 

Eric rubbed the water out of his eyes. “No, I’m alright, really, don’t-”

Then, he realized. Ariel was not keeping herself afloat as effortlessly as she had been doing, and on such close proximity he could well see the unmistakable shape of two pale legs swinging back and forth underwater. He looked up, his mouth agape.

“You are human again!” he exclaimed. Ariel laughed, a sound of pure happiness bubbling out of her chest. “But, how-”

“I love you,” she cut whatever he had been about to ask. Her words successfully shut him up. “And I want to be with you, if you want to be with me as well.”

It was his turn to laugh out of both joy and disbelief. With a heart full of euphoria and love, Eric put his hands on both sides of her face and finally kissed her. He thought he would know how it would feel. He thought the peck that had been stolen from him when he was 14, the little brushes, the kisses he had almost shared with her the past days would have prepared him. But nothing, absolutely nothing, could compare to what feeling her lips against his did to him. Shivers ran down him from head to toe, his heart beating so fast that he was sure it was about to shoot off his chest, never to be seen again. His head spun and he felt like he was melting from the inside out. Ariel’s lips were salty with droplets of seawater and they were soft, so soft. 

He pulled away. Her face was tinged pink as surely his was as well. She took a few deep breaths at the rhythm of his heartbeat, then her mouth broke into a smile and she leaned in to kiss him again.

He still had so much to say, so many questions to ask and answers to hopefully receive. He would have so many explanations to give to everyone around him, many of which he was clueless about himself, but those worries did not last long. 

All of it could come later. They had time.


	7. VII. sailing forward standing steady

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the final chapter! thank you so much for reading all the way here

**VII. sailing forward standing steady**

And seamlessly, moment by moment, the big day came upon them. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t been anxious, that he didn’t notice the passage of time and that when the day finally came he was prepared. In fact, he had counted the days, the hours even, and he was no less nervous than he had been the day a date had been set.

He was trying to breathe deeply at the rhythm of the clock to calm his thumping heart while Biergh shaved him that morning. They had been neglecting his facial hair for the past few weeks, so now there was a thin layer of fuzz covering the lower part of his face. Ariel had been greatly amused by it, though behind her giggles and jokes he could tell that she didn’t like it. He didn’t like it much either.

Biergh and him had considered leaving it for the day, so he would appear older, more mature, but he had decided against it. More than ever, he wanted to feel like nothing else than himself.

He closed his eyes as Biergh passed the razor over his lip with caution. He had gotten better at it, almost as good as Galen, though there was still that sharpness of movement that could only be found in Biergh. It was almost grounding.

Eric took a deep breath and tried to swallow down his anxiety. Biergh stopped for a second and looked at his face. He continued shaving down his left cheek and said:

“Did you sleep well last night?”

He might have improved his skills with a shaving razor, but he still forgot the titles. Eric knew the time was coming when he wouldn’t be able to let it slide anymore.

He tried to laugh, but it came out more as a shaky chuckle. “Is it that obvious?”

“The dark circles are pretty noticeable.”

“Good to know,” he said, and tried to smile again. Eric hadn’t, in fact, gotten any sleep that night. He had woken up at some point hours before sunrise and hadn’t been able to go back to sleep no matter how hard he tried. Eventually, he gave up and moved to the balcony to breathe some of the fresh air of the night. Ariel eventually realized that he wasn’t sleeping and stayed up with him. No matter how many times he told her that she should go rest she refused to go back to bed. Even despite the tiredness that she clearly felt, she never left his side. Together they watched the sun rise over the horizon as he laid his head in the comfort of her shoulder and held her hand between his. When the morning came and they had to part ways, she told him that everything would be alright. He placed a kiss on her temple and let her go.

The memory made the smile in his lips feel truer, but the knot in his chest did not become any less tight. Biergh did not ask any further, he gave him a nod and continued working. A few minutes later, once his face was completely shaved, there was a knock on the door. Galen came into the room carrying a simple wooden box that he quickly set over his trunk. He looked relaxed, unlike Biergh and himself, but Galen was always so put together that it did not surprise him.

He gave Eric one look and commented in a nonchalant manner, “You look terrible, sire.”

“That’s what I said,” Biergh said under his breath while he put away the shaving tools.

“That won’t do. We should at least rouge you up a little bit, we cannot have you looking like you are one step away from death in front of all those people.”

Eric knew what they were doing. They were trying to calm him down and he was more than grateful for it. He followed along.

“No, thank you, Galen. I will only end up looking like I had too much rum before the ceremony.”

“I take full offense to that, sire. Applying rouge is one of my many skills. Am I good at applying rouge, Biergh?”

“Wonderful at it,” came Biergh’s quiet response.

“‘Wonderful at it’ he said, Prince Eric. Thank you, my darling,” Galen repeated, his voice still serious but a small trace of the humor behind his words coming to light. Eric was able to let out a small lighthearted chuckle.

“Thank you but I think I will say no to that offer.”

Galen gave him a small smile and moved to open the wooden box he had brought with him. Inside, neatly and carefully placed, were the signet ring he knew had belonged to his father and several of the adorning medals and gold pins that would be placed on his attire that day. The sight of the ceremonial jewels made him feel like the knot in his chest was not letting him breathe anymore.

“Very well then, Your Highness, but do not fret,”–Galen and Biergh were looking at him both like he was going to war and like they had all the faith in the world in him–“We will make sure that you look your best, even without the rouge.”

_ Your Highness _ . 

Eric closed his eyes as his two servants started moving around him to begin the preparation.  _ Your Highness, Your Royal Highness.  _ He wouldn’t be called that much longer.

* * *

Many things had changed. It wasn’t very noticeable, especially among the people closest to him, and he could almost ignore it while Galen and Biergh threw jokes and playful remarks at one another as if it were just another day. He could pretend he was being prepared to attend a special dinner or a festival in town, but pretending could only take him so far. Things were different, he was different and everything around him was different. It didn’t take a very bright person to notice that the way that people looked at him had shifted at some point in the past year. 

He wasn’t viewed as the naive and carefree young prince anymore, people no longer held their breath in anticipation for the next time he would run away to the sea, that was something that he unfortunately didn’t have much time for anymore. He knew that nostalgia was useless and tried not to long too much for the time gone by. After all, he had a present that he wouldn’t have changed for the world.

Looking at himself in the mirror in his ceremonial military uniform once he was dressed and ready, he didn’t see exactly a stranger as he feared he would have. Rather, he saw a version of himself that maybe he hadn’t stepped into completely, but that sometime soon he would. He took one last deep breath and straightened his shoulders as he walked out the door.

In the halls servants walked in all directions finishing the last details of the ceremony in the throne room and the ball that would be held later in the evening to celebrate. Hanging ribbons, banners and flower arrangements could be seen decorating every inch of the palace. He chanted the memorized flowers in his head like the games that children played: heathers, the Vedhavet flower, purple asters for royalty and lilacs, the Prince’s birth flower. Everything was shining and beautiful, a promise of a joyful day.

The two guards that escorted him to the sitting room he would be waiting at bowed to him. The ‘Your Highness’ that they both muttered held more emotion than it would in a normal day. He walked around in silence, his dress shoes clicking on the floor as he heard more and more people outside the room. Looking out the window through a slit on the closed curtains, he counted the guests that were still arriving and being welcomed to the palace, a seemingly long line of full skirts and fancy coats. He had barely gotten to 13 when the door opened again. He immediately felt lighter as he took in the beautiful young woman that had walked in.

Of all the things that had changed in the year since his 18th birthday, the most drastic change had been that, against all odds and expectations, Prince Eric of Vedhavet had finally brought a princess to the kingdom. He was sure that no one believed that before his coronation he would be so happily married, so madly in love with the woman that was now his wife. He felt the smile that spread across his face when their eyes met. Her red hair was pinned up in a complicated hairstyle of braids and ribbons, a silver tiara prettily adorning her head. He gave a silent thank you to however had chosen her dress, as it was his favorite color on her. He always knew green would look beautiful on her.

He walked towards him as she walked towards him, meeting in the middle of the room. Ariel’s eyes were glinting almost playfully as she looked over him. Eric took her hand and gave it a kiss. He noticed that she was wearing the green sea glass bracelet that he had gifted her what felt like thousands of years ago.

“You look absolutely gorgeous,” he told her, lacing her fingers with his. She smiled with a slight blush in her cheeks.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Prince Eric.”

“Oh, this? I rather like it, I am actually thinking of using it as casual everyday clothing. What do you think?”

She laughed in that adorable way that wrinkled the corner of her eyes. “Absolutely not.” He laughed along with her, already feeling the knot in his chest loosen the more he ran his eyes over her soft features, the collarbones that he loved to kiss to make her giggle and her pale shoulders that peeked right over the lace on the low sleeves of her dress. They had been married for half a year, and he hadn’t yet tired of running his fingers down that perfect curve that her neck and shoulder formed. However, her lady in waiting and a butler were diligently standing at a respectful distance from them, so he could only look for now.

Ariel put one hand on his cheek, making him look up from a particular mole in her clavicle to her eyes. Her eyebrows were slightly pinched as she seemed to examine his face. She gently ran her thumb under his eye.

“You look tired,” she said in a low voice, only for him. He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning into her touch.

“I am.”

“Are sure you’ll be okay?” Her tone, as always, was genuine when expressing her worry. He opened his eyes and looked at her to make sure she knew he was being honest.

“I’ll be fine,” he said nodding, “I won’t drop in the middle of the ceremony, if that’s what worries you. Though I would do anything so that we could go back to bed and sleep until next week.”

“I wish,” she said, and Eric once again felt guilty for keeping her up for a good portion of the night. She must have been so tired as well. “It’ll pass quickly, we will be done with all of it in no time.”

It wasn’t true, and they both knew it. They still had a long, long day ahead of them before they could go get a proper night of sleep, but he appreciated her trying to make it all more bearable. He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it again with a smile.

“Of course we will, my love.”

He relished in the way that endearments still made her face glow a soft pink. She smiled and gained back her familiar mischievous air. “Meanwhile, do you think you can bear it?”

“As long as you don’t disappear from my side, that would be wonderful. At least to make sure I don’t tear these clothes”

“Too tight?” She ran her hands over his embellished coat, smoothing it down.

Eric shrugged. “Not too bad. It could be worse.”

“Well, I never thought in my life-” Another voice, a deeper and familiar one, resonated in the sitting room. His mother, as regal as ever, was standing in front of the open door, the highly decorated crown that he didn’t see very often sitting atop her head naturally, as if it were just an extension of her perfect posture. Him and his wife separated a couple of inches respectfully at her presence, smiles still on their faces. Ariel’s hand slid off from his coat and secured itself in his arm. She dipped in a graceful curtsey towards the approaching Queen (human etiquette was, surprisingly, one of the things that she had caught on the fastest).

“You look beautiful, dear. Every day I wonder how this boy got so lucky with you,” his mother smiled at her tenderly before turning back to Eric. “And you, it’s nice to see you finally learned how to act your age. Two years ago you would’ve whined for hours before jumping out of your clothes at the first opportunity.”

“Completely unnecessary, mother,” Eric said in a jokingly serious tone.

His mother clicked her tongue, “Watch your tone, don’t think that just because you’ll be the king suddenly you can talk back to your mother.”

He knew that almost everyone wouldn’t notice, but it became clear to him. Even his mother, with her impassive and controlled expressions, was nervous at the importance that the day held. There weren’t many telltale signs, just a slight quiver in her lips and an almost imperceptible widening of her eyes, but they were there. She went on as if nothing was worrying her heart. She opened her hand fan and stated that they would be late if they didn’t get moving before turning and walking out the door. Eric wanted to comment that the ceremony couldn’t really begin until he got there so they couldn’t be late, but he had the feeling that his mother’s mood for jokes had started and ended with her brief comments. 

Eric took a deep breath and felt a small tugging in his arms. Ariel was looking at him, a question in her eyes. He amused himself for a second imagining what she would do if he told her that he wanted to get out of there. He was sure that she wouldn’t hesitate to break him out like some runaway bride escaping with her lover in a very dramatic though funny scene. 

But, alas, he wouldn’t get to see it, at least not that day. He put a hand over hers and nodded. They both followed his mother out the room.

* * *

Grimsby was standing outside the door of the throne room along with two servants when they arrived. He was, to Eric’s great surprise, the only person he had encountered that day who seemed to be completely calm. His posture was, as always, proper and straight but he was not stiff, there was an easy smile on his face and his eyes glowed with what could only be pride. To Eric, it felt like someone had finally thrown a rope at him while he was drowning. Seeing Grimsby, the person who had spent the past six years on the verge of a breakdown anticipating this day, so sure that there wouldn’t be any mishaps and mistakes made him start to believe that maybe it would be so.

“All ready, Your Highness,” he said, that pride evident in his voice. Eric was ready to burst into tears.

“Thanks, Grim,” he said. What would he ever have done without Grimsby?

“If you allow it, Your Majesty,” the old advisor continued, directed to Eric’s mother with a respectful nod, “We will now proceed to the final adornments to begin the ceremony.”

“Of course, Sir Grimsby. Gentlemen,” his mother turned to the guards standing behind them, “Would you be so kind as to escort the Princess to her place beside Princess Hedvig.”

Eric’s heart suddenly started beating as if it was about to come out of his mouth. It was officially starting. He felt like the air he was breathing became thicker, going down his lungs with more difficulty as he held Ariel’s hand tighter. He didn’t want to let her go yet, if he could he would go through the entire thing with her hand in his, traditions be damned. And yet, he knew that now was not the time to rebel against his kingdom’s customs.

He turned towards her, his pulse accelerating. She gave him a small, reassuring smile and Eric just wanted to kiss her again and again until they both forgot everything around them. 

“I will be right there,” she told him, her voice soft, “Everything will go well, I promise.”

He let out a long breath as she put her hand on his cheek and ran her fingers down his temple. “Ariel,” he breathed out her name and he was startled when his voice slightly trembled. On a beat, Ariel wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him down in a tight hug. Eric brought her small frame against his and hid his face in her neck, breathing in and out at the rhythm of her heartbeat. 

His entire body was running cold, but she immediately made him warm like a hearth. She had never lost that warmth, even when the winter days came he could always count on curling up next to her to alleviate some of the freezing cold that numbed his fingers and nose. At first he had thought that it was an Ariel thing, but when he met Ariel’s sisters on the shore and the oldest, Attina, offered him her hand to take, he had been surprised to find out that it was just as warm as Ariel had always been, even after being underwater and the chilly air of the approaching fall. He started to believe that it was one of the mermaid traits that had stayed with her. Whatever the reason was, he could only be thankful as he soaked in her comforting warmth so he could keep it with him when he stood out there alone.

“Ariel,” he whispered in her ear, conscious of how the people around them were starting to shift awkwardly but not caring one bit, “Love, I am so scared.”

And he was. Scared that he was actually mistaken about everything, about being ready, about his people wanting him to be king, about being good for anything that wasn’t setting a sail and climbing a rope. God, he missed sailing. He would give anything to be out in the water, he just needed a couple of hours at sea and he would be okay. Except he didn’t have a couple of hours, he would be crowned king in a matter of minutes.

Ariel pulled away from him a couple of inches and pressed her forehead against his. Her features were still soft with her young age and there was a small imprint above her eyebrow where she had pressed it against one of his pins, but in her eyes she had all the determination of a powerful monarch. His princess would someday be the greatest of queens.

“Everything will go well,” she repeated, “Not just the ceremony. I can assure you that for years from now, these people will say that they could not have asked for a better king. You will be okay.”

She said it with such conviction, that stubbornness that made Ariel who she was, it was hard not to believe her. He breathed in, willed his lips to form a smile and nodded. Ariel returned it with a pretty smile of her own, then she pulled his face down and, in front of the Queen, the Royal Advisor, a couple of guards and servants and right outside a room full of nobles, she kissed his right dimple and gave him a small peck on the lips. He should have been embarrassed, and maybe he would later, but right then he could only be grateful for the pleasant feeling that spread across his chest. 

He pressed his forehead one last time against hers and let her go with the guards. The next time he held her, there would be a crown in his head.

As the door opened and she walked in, he was able to see the attendees bowing before her, as well as seeing her be briefly stopped by Lord and Lady Lindberg. The door closed after he got a peek of her giving a courteous greeting and animatedly conversing with the guests. 

“She will be a great queen someday,” he heard his mother’s voice next to him, mirroring his earlier thoughts. A smile started spreading in Eric’s lips. “She has this natural charm that makes people love her, and kindness to give out to the entire world. I am sure the people will love her when she ascends to the throne. When her time comes.”

When the plans for the coronation started, they had decided not to crown Ariel just yet. Not simply because she was young (after all, he was barely two years older than her), but also because, as the youngest of seven siblings, she had never received an education on how to be the ruler of a kingdom. She simply wasn’t ready yet, and he didn’t want to throw all that responsibility on her. But she was learning, she had taken to tagging along his mother on her errands and tasks around the palace. She especially liked going down to town and listening to their subjects’ concerns and stories, she was good at that. His mother was right, people just seemed to love her.

It hadn’t been easy, especially after word had gotten around that the Prince had been bewitched by a sea monster and had then followed a mermaid down to the sea. People were afraid and some questioned the sanity of the royal family, but slowly, little by little, his people and the seafolk grew to accept and not fear each other. And Ariel, well, there was no way she wouldn’t have been accepted. It was impossible not to fall for her.

“I am sure she will,” he told his mother. He turned to the people that remained with him. One of the servants was very obviously trying to hold in giggles while the other was red in the face.

“Well, this is it. Ready now?” his mother asked him. Before he could hesitate, he nodded.

His mother called one of the servants, the one that held a dark wooden box with the royal crest, who approached them and carefully opened it for her. Inside there were only a pin of a bird and a small medal of a cross that had belonged to his father inside. Galen and Biergh could’ve put them on him when they were getting him ready, but his mother had especially requested to put the last adornments on him before the ceremony. ‘Pure sentimentality’, she had said, but he knew that it meant very much to her.

With graceful fingers, she took the pin. She had had it made for him to be worn at the ceremony, a golden little bird that he knew as the symbol of Esmond, his mother’s birthplace. She pinned it right below his left shoulder, then she took the cross. Eric had seen it many times in his father’s chest, its blue gemstones and the tiny delicate anchor engraved in the center always caught his eye when he was younger. 

It served as a reminder for the king of Vedhavet, his father had told him once, of how much the kingdom depended on the sea and the responsibility that he held to respect it for his people’s sake. Another event that he had feared for years was finally here. That medal would be on his chest, the responsibility would be his.

“Now remember,” his mother told him as she tried to unclasp the medal, “Squared up shoulders, whatever happens no hunching, don’t you dare hunch. Keep your chin up all the way down until the ‘...in defense of the Kingdom of Vedhavet and its people…’ part, just like the rehearsals.”

“I know, mum.”

“And remember to look straight ahead, this is not a town festivity, no smiling until we are all out of that door.” She was struggling with the medal, it was as if the little metal clasp kept slipping off her fingers. “And you kept forgetting the order of the oath responses during the rehearsals, remember that it’s starts with-”

“‘I am willing’. I know, I got it, mum.”

“And if for a second you- Oh, Lord.” Whatever fight she was having with the medal, she had clearly lost it. It took Eric a second to process that her hands were shaking. His mother’s hands, the hands of Queen Amalie, were shaking right in front of him. Eric gently covered them with his. Despite his fingers being covered by gloves, he could still feel her ice cold skin. Much like him, his mother was always cold.

His hands were steady as he quickly helped her unclasp the medal she had been struggling with.

“Mum,” he called her. He saw her take a breath and finally clasp in the medal in the empty spot left by Galen, right above his heart. She looked up at him and her eyes were shining with tears that he knew she wouldn’t shed.

“Eric… Oh, my darling boy,” she said barely above a whisper. She put her hands and both sides of his face. “I am so, so proud of you, and I know your father would be proud of the man you have become if he could see you. No matter what happens, you will always be the most beautiful gift that has been given to me. Never forget that.”

Eric smiled and choked back his own emotions.

“I won’t, I will always remember it.”

“Very well,” the Queen took a deep breath and raised her nose, swiftly wiping her damp eyes with the back of her hand. Eric acted as if he hadn’t seen it. “Now you keep that head up to show everyone the pride of Vedhavet in your eyes.  _ No hunching _ , is that clear?”

He raised his face and pulled back his shoulders in mock exaggeration. “As water, Your Majesty.”

She smiled and pinched his chin with affection before moving aside to allow Grimsby to approach him with the servant that carried the royal robe. Another sentimentality, his own manservants could have helped him with it, but Eric had really wanted Grimsby to do it for him, if only to be able to see him one last time before the ceremony. That old beanpole, as annoyed as he made him sometimes and as much as Eric felt that sometimes he expected too much of him, had been with him through it all, through all the bumps and accidents and misfortunes. He wanted to see him at least for a second, to let him know everything he owed him.

Grimsby did not say a word as the servants threw the robe over Eric’s shoulders and he clasped it at his front. He did not fuss like his mother, or struggle with the golden strings of the robes. He only calmly fixed any imperfection he saw in the robe and placed the strings into a perfect bow with that same serene smile that he had worn all day. There wasn’t anything more to teach or anything more to correct, it seemed to be telling him. He was ready.

“A perfect fit, couldn’t have done it better myself,” he said when he was done.

“Thank you for everything, Grimsby.” Eric knew he would understand everything he was putting behind his words.

Grimsby only kept smiling and gave him a nod. “It was an honor, Your Highness.”

Now that one, he knew it would be the last.

“Ready whenever you are, sire,” one of the guards told him as they moved to open the doors for his mother and Grimsby.

“Though preferably right on time without missing your cue, darling,” his mother remarked, her voice much more controlled than earlier. She smoothed down the front of her cream colored dress and fixed her necklace. Eric’s heart started thumping against his chest as he saw the door open and his mother walking in, head up and dignified posture. He heard the voices inside the throne room quiet down and the shuffling of people going to their place and bowing down deeply for her. The Queen’s Fanfare reached his ears. The coronation ceremony had started.

He took one breath, then another, he flexed his fingers and pulled down his sleeves. He tried going through the things that he knew, the things he could hold onto, but he found his mind blank. Instead he focused on his mother’s steps. She was walking slowly, in perfect timing with the trumpeting. He counted the embroidered golden roses in the back of her dress until the melody of the fanfare changed from the Queen’s Fanfare to something that hadn’t been played in Vedhavet in years: the King’s Parade. That was his cue.

His mouth was completely dry and a small voice in his mind told him that that was as good a moment to run as any. Claudius could be the King of Vedhavet, hell, he was sure Ariel could be the King of Vedhavet if she wanted to. However, instead of running and instead of freezing as he feared he would, he took a step and he was moving forward. Because after all, despite his fears and doubts, he wanted to be the king, and a king his people deserved he would be.

His first thought was that the throne room looked smaller than he thought it would be. It wasn’t that the room wasn’t spacious, there were wide windows on one side that let light in and the ceiling was high enough to let a beautiful chandelier hang over their head. The two thrones on the opposite wall still looked like they were miles away, but he supposed that it being full of people unlike during the rehearsals and the fact that he barely felt he could breathe made it feel much more cramped.

Head up, no hunching, show the pride of Vedhavet. He walked forward, the royal robe trailing behind him. It was just as heavy as he imagined it would be, it was almost like carrying a person on his back but it wasn’t as burdensome as he had thought. He could still walk appropriately slow as the trumpeting of the King’s Parade turned into a melodious ceremonial tune of piano and cello.

He could recognize some faces even with his eyes looking straight ahead. His mother was standing on one side of the elevated platform at the back of the hall, along with the officiator who stood at the center. Carlotta and Grimsby were standing next to each other and Carlotta looked as close to bursting into tears as she had in his wedding. He briefly found Galen and Biergh somewhere in the crowd and he surprisingly was able to see the Princess of Glowerhaven with her parents and younger brother before her head dipped into a bow as he walked by.

_ “So was she Number 16? Number 17?”  _ he remembered Princess Celeste telling him as they walked around the pavilion on the welcoming outdoors lunch they had organized for her family. She had been looking at Ariel while his wife gracefully served a cup of tea for the Queen of Glowerhaven. 

There was no resentment or ill intentions behind her amused voice, so Eric allowed himself to laugh with some embarrassment at the reminder of his immature ways.  _ “No, actually you were Number 17. She never had a number.” _

Princess Celeste had smiled rather bittersweetly.  _ “She must have really been something special.” _

If he had been allowed to, he would’ve smiled at the memory, because Ariel had been much more than something special. Finding her wasn’t hard, his redhead wife was at the front next to his equally redhead cousins. She glowed like a flower blossom in a field of grass and she was smiling at him with those pretty lips of her. How he wanted to be over with everything already so he could run to her and not let go.

She disappeared from his view much too soon, but the image of her and her words from early remained with him as he finally reached the front of the room. Praying he wouldn’t tumble in the process, he took a knee. The officiator began the costumery introduction to the ceremony, which began with a proverb in the old language of Vfelean. Eric tried to focus on his words so that he knew exactly when the oath began but once his eyes had found it, he could not stop looking at the crown.

Of course he had seen it before, he had even worn it for a couple of minutes in the last rehearsal, but seeing it while kneeling in the actual ceremony knowing that he would wear it as king in just a few minutes made it seem different, heavier, more imposing. It shined golden with the streaming sunlight from the windows and it was embedded with the same light blue gemstones as the ones on the cross medal. It was beautiful and terrifying.

The officiator approached the crown and took it firmly in his hands. Eric’s breath hitched and he found himself repeating the words that someone had told him over and over in his head. It was almost funny, most conversations he had with his father while he lived had been about the day Eric would become king, and yet those words had not been his. They had come, in fact, from his father-in-law, a few weeks prior when Ariel and him had met him on the shore.

_ Being born as one is not what makes someone a king, despite what everyone may believe,  _ King Triton had told him,  _ It is the trust that your people will put on you. A king without the love of his kingdom is just a fool with a crown _ .

Trust and love.

He would earn it, he thought as the officiator stood before him holding the crown above his head, he would earn it even if he had to work his entire life for it.

“Are you, Prince Eric, as the first in line for the throne of Vedhavet, willing to take the Oath?”

He would be a king, in all of its definitions.

“I am willing.” His voice was firm and it travelled all around the wide room. He could feel everyone listening.

“Will you solemnly swear to govern the people of this the Kingdom of Vedhavet according to their laws and costumes?”

“I solemnly swear so to do,” he responded.

“ Will you to your power cause law and justice, in mercy, to be executed in all your judgements?”

“I will.”

“Will you promise to always remain worthy, to preserve the heritage of honor and courage bequeathed to you by the former bearers of this Crown, and to give your life in defense of the Kingdom of Vedhavet and its people if you were ever called to do so?”

Eric lowered his head as the officiator brought the crown down.

“All this I promise to do.”

The crown was put on his head, and so it was done.

He breathed in and out.

He would be okay.

“Then by the power lawfully vested in me, I crown you Eric, King of Vedhavet.”

He rose, feeling the weight of the crown very suddenly. He gave a half turn and he faced the crown. There was a respectful silence, but the faces before him were smiling and proud.

“All bow before His Royal Majesty King Eric!”

His eyes found hers. He couldn’t smile yet but he so wanted to, because her face was full of pride and love and so much joy that she was pretty much brimming with it. She would be by his side through it all. Ariel, his wife, the mermaid that found him, the lost voice that enchanted him and returned to him. He could do anything if she was next to him.

Yes, he would be okay.


End file.
